


On My Honor

by runningwater



Series: Feysand Things [9]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Badass Feyre, Bi!Rhys, F/M, Mulan!Feyre, War, acotar typical blood and violence, crossdressing to hide identity, maybe smut? idk yet, soldiers to lovers i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 40,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24794725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningwater/pseuds/runningwater
Summary: War has ravaged Prythian for years, depleting forces as Hybern shows no signs of stopping or tiring. Rhys is forced to send out conscription notices to all families demanding one man from each. Feyre, fearing for her crippled father, takes his place and disguises herself as a man.Basically the Mulan concept
Relationships: Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Series: Feysand Things [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607200
Comments: 288
Kudos: 301





	1. Rhysand

**Author's Note:**

> So this is not in the Classic Chinese style bc as much as I love Mulan and have seen the movie (several) dozen times, I don’t want to mess it up. Picture like 1700s Europe, I guess? And this is loosely based on the movie.

“Fall back!” my order rang out over the battlefield. Soldiers left and right were falling to Hybern steel. Each one was a slash to my soul.

“Fall back!” my order came again. The towering wood gate behind us creaked closed on ancient hinges. Each inch was an echo across the war-torn field.

Again and again, I swung my shield and sword, years of training keeping me on my feet and alive. Cassian and Az to my right and left shadowed my movements, felling an enemy soldier with each blow. We yielded ground little by little, closer and closer to the haven behind us. I would not stop until every one of my unit was safe behind the fortress walls.

“General!” the cry rang out, the plea apparent to let me know that it was time to let go. With a final swing, I killed a Hybern soldier and stepped behind the fortress gates, just in time to let the door swing shut.

Bodies slammed on the other side, demanding entry by force. The heavy oak doors held against the assault, allowing me to release a small breath of relief. Scanning the courtyard, I could tell losses were heavy but could have been so much worse. Women rushed between gaps in the chaos, bringing water and clean cloth for the healers. Outside the wars of the fortress, violent yells echoed over the field, Hybern roaring at the absence of their opponent.

Cassian had already disappeared from my side, going to his men to bring them whatever comfort he could. Azriel surveyed the courtyard at my side, absorbing reports from messengers that rushed up to him and then disappeared with his orders.

“Hybern withdraws their forces to the mountains, it’s unclear if they’re moving on or if they’re going to try for another attack,” he told me, voice rough from yelling in the battle.

I nodded, my brow furrowing, trying to predict what their next move will be.

Cassian circled back around to where we were, his face grave and ashen. “We lost almost 2,000 today.” I cursed quietly. This was a heavy blow to our forces, almost a third of them.

“I want to send out conscription notices,” Cas said, “We need to grow our ranks if we’re to survive this war.”

I stiffened at his request. I knew we needed more bodies at the front, but my stomach churned with the thought of damning more souls to the outright slaughter. He and Az read every emotion on my face. “I don’t want to do this either,” Cas whispered, “But we need to.”

I nodded, “Do it. Ask for at least one man from each family, two if they can manage it. Make sure the families are fairly compensated.”

“Yes, Captain,” Cas strode away to draft the conscription notice. I watched his back get swallowed by the masses of injured, my heart heavy in my chest. Azriel had also disappeared, off to secure our safety for the night. I turned to the steps built into the fortress walls, climbing them with heavy legs. My head wanted to droop with exhaustion, but I couldn’t let my men see me weak. They looked to me for strength and stability. Rest will come later.

The top of the wall was dotted with archers, those who were better suited to fight from afar than on the ground. A hulking black mass washed with gold from the sunset grew distant with each passing minute. Hybern knew that they had won the battle despite us living to fight another day. At least it looked like they wouldn’t be bothering us for the night, allowing my men time to rest.

I leaned on the outer wall, my gaze sweeping over the bodies that clumped and littered the field. Small fires had broken out, the smoke barely masking the stench of rotting flesh. Tomorrow those fit enough will have to venture out among their dead comrades and pile the bodies for ritual burning. There was no time or energy for digging a mass grave, this was the only comfort I could give their weary souls. Hybern declined to take their dead, leaving them among ours. We would burn them too, not out of respect, but to get rid of them.

The last of the sun slipped over the horizon, shadows deepening over the plain. Bodies became wraiths, forever to haunt the battlefield. The quiet was deafening, a horrible contrast to screams earlier.

The courtyard behind me yielded the occasional shout or cry. The healers were doing their work right. I heaved a sigh, turning my back on the bloodbath below. My mind snagged on each body below, soon to be new recruits would be taking their place.

Az met me at the bottom of the stairs, paper balled in his fist, face grim. “Hybern is retreating further into the mountains and shows no signs of coming out anytime soon.”

My brow furrowed, sorting through the information. They had the numbers, the strength. They could siege this fortress if they wanted to.

“We don’t understand either,” anger biting at Az’s words.

“Keep an eye on them, they’ll make their move soon,” I clapped him on the shoulder. Weaving through the packed bodies, I offered words of strength to the men, occasionally holding down one when a healer needed a hand. The hallways of the fortress weren’t much better, more lining the walls, sleeping or eating.

I finally reached the small room I had been occupying for the past few weeks. A bed and cluttered desk took up most of the space. I had been offered bigger quarters but denied them for the healers or soldiers. Someone had left a bowl of fresh water on the desk. My sword thunked on the ground, soon followed by my heavy armor. Blood had worked its way under my shirt, leaving it stuck to my skin. Peeling it away, I surveyed the damage. Nothing more than a massive bruise on my stomach but all my muscles screamed from hours of use.

Scrubbing down as quickly as I could, the water was a murky red by the time I was done. Even with the slight chill in the room, as soon as my head hit the pillow, a dreamless sleep dragged me down.


	2. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long but I was unmotivated. Note: for this story, I made Rhys and his brothers just high-ranking military leaders, not the head of Prythian or anything Night Court related.

“Feyre! Feeeeyyyyyy-rrreeeeee,” the whine carried out over the field, grating against my ears. I loosed a tight breath, turning towards the source.

“Yes, Elain?” my sister had left her hair down today, lovely and golden in the late summer sun. She had always been the prettiest of us, soft and gentle, a smile easy on her lips. The opposite of Nesta who was somewhere in the trees near the house.

“Do you think you can find some berries for tonight’s dinner?” she pleaded, her eyes going wide and doe-like. It hadn’t occurred to her that she could find them herself. I’d shown her the patches a dozen times, but she complained of them staining her soft fingertips.

“Sure, I’ll see what I can find.” It was late summer so hopefully we hadn’t picked them clean by now. A smile burst across her face, putting the sun to shame. She skipped back towards the house, presumably to find Nesta and deliver the news. I’m sure she couldn't care less what I put on the table, as long as she didn’t have to do anything.

I slipped between the trees on the other side of the field, the cool shade playing over my skin. Greens and golds and pinks filtered through the canopy, snatches of color snagged my attention. Flowers colored with the blush of a fair maiden. Crimson birds crafted from a forgotten god’s blood. A spot of sapphire sky that was nestled in emerald green.

I pressed further in, if only to escape for a few minutes. Summer was always a plentiful season for us but there was always something that needed to be done. Firewood chopped in the morning and evening. Chicken eggs collected and the pigs fed. And now, berries to be picked for dinner. At least Elain tended to her garden, providing vegetables for our table. I was hopeless when it came to growing things, more used to taking lives than raising them.

A small stream gurgled nearby, cutting through our small slice of land. It wasn’t even our land really. Our house sat just off the main road, obscured by the odd bush or so. The land behind was shared with our neighbors. Alis’s family was to the left of our house and Clare was to our right. Elain and Nesta had claimed Clare as their friend early on. I was too young when they started playing with her, and once I was old enough, they deemed it too late to join their trio. Alis was the closest thing I could call a friend. We really only saw each other when neither of us were busy. She had her nephews to look after and I had my family to worry about.

I wandered loosely through the patch of trees and bushes, idly looking a berry bush. Even if the land wasn’t ours, at least we had access to it. We were far from the wealthiest family in town, and only barely escaped the clutches of poverty except in the worst of winters.

 _There,_ I spotted a few clusters hiding deep in a bush, _maybe I can use them to bribe Elain to do a chore or two._ The deep red shone in the shaded light, thinking themselves clever for burying themselves deep in the bush. Only the most eagle-eyed forager could reap the sweet reward.

It wasn’t that I resented my sisters for their lack of help in keeping us alive, they weren’t the ones that had promised their mother on her death bed to keep them alive. It was almost eight years since she’d passed. That quiet fire extinguished forever.

Elain had cried for weeks.

Nesta for only a day.

I had yet to shed a tear over her.

I kneeled in the warm, soft dirt, inhaling the rich scent of soil and leaves. Gathering up a corner of my shirt, I started to pluck the berries, popping one or two in my mouth, not caring if their juices stained my mouth or cloth. There were few simple pleasures in my life, I had to take them when I could. Soon, I had stripped the bush of its treasure and turned to make my way back.

As soon as I stepped out of the trees, the full force of the sun hit me again, pressing into whatever exposed skin there was. By the time I reached the house, sweat was drying on me.

Elain had already released a squeal of delight when she saw me carry the berries past her in the small garden. My father was at the kitchen table, carving a bit of wood. Nesta was reading one of our few books by the front window, probably more preoccupied with judging the townsfolk that walked by.

She stiffened suddenly, drawing my attention to her and then the world beyond.

There, heading into our village, was a small contingent of soldiers. This wasn’t unusual due to the war that had been raging distantly for years but so rarely did they bear the royal standard. The group of five rode straight and proud on their horses, unruffled from their ride and the heat. Whenever soldiers came to town, bad news soon followed.

Nesta swiftly stood from her seat, sweeping past me with hardly a glance to go and gather Elain from the back. Little happened in our village so they would go see what commotion could be caused. I dumped the berries into an empty wooden bowl on the counter and turned to see what I could cook for dinner tonight.

Nesta returned with Elain in tow, sneering at the red stains on my shirt. I followed them out of the house, if only to make sure that they returned for dinner on time. Other neighbors had emerged in their wake, curiosity spread like wildfire when there was gossip to be had.

Nesta sought out Clare, tugging Elain with her leaving me to trail behind. The three struck up a conversation about the soldiers and what news they might bring.

Alis emerged from her house, her two nephews tugging her along. I paused, waiting for her while my sisters went ahead. I gave Alis a closed mouth smile at how the boys tugged on her hands, urging her to go faster so they could keep the soldiers in their sight. She returned my smile, but it turned tight when she looked down at her boys. They were at the age when they only thought about becoming soldiers, not the war that was raging at the front.

We walked the short distance into town, not exchanging words but listening to the endless stream of chatter from the boys. Word had spread like wildfire in the village, when we turned the corner, it seemed like some or all from every house had come. Had come even with no guarantee that the soldiers were here for any reason other than to resupply.

Curiosity crackled in the air, words buzzing with concern and excitement. The soldiers, dressed in black tunics with silver stitching depicting a crescent moon crossed with a sword, came to a halt in front of the pub, the closest thing we had to a town hall. From their mounts, they surveyed the crowd, their faces unremarkable and vaguely bored. No sneering or grimaces at the state of our small village with its common peasants and odd or end merchant.

“Hybern continues to press forward,” the leader's voice rang out, deep and grave, “General Knight has called for reinforcements to the front.” The murmurs that were quieted had broken out again, neighbors and family turning to each other with fear in their eyes.

The man waited for them to absorb the news before continuing. “We will be coming to everyone’s houses in the next few days with conscription notices and taking names. He has asked for at least one man from every family to step forward and answer the call. Each family will be fairly paid for their service. It is an honor to serve Prythian.”

I hardly heard the last words, all sounds going dull and distant. _One man from every family_ , was echoing in my mind. Our father had served the country years ago. But that was a different ruler, a different age. He was being called to war again and the last one already wrecked his knee. He wouldn’t survive training, let alone the bloody battles that would follow. Even Elain begging him not to go wouldn’t stop him. He had too much pride for himself and where he stood in the world.

The man stopped speaking and the crowd was starting to disperse. I forced myself to unfreeze, looking over to where my sisters were still talking with Clare. They looked unbothered by the announcement, clearly not caring or realizing that our father would be going to war for the second time.

I turned to start the walk home, lost in thought. The only thing I knew for sure was that my father cannot go off to war, but we needed money that would come with conscription.

And there at the edges of my mind, a crazy idea formed. One that I didn’t want to look at too closely. Not yet, but soon.


	3. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first big girl job starts in five minutes so I thought y'all would like to celebrate with me with a new chapter!

My father waited two heartbeats before opening the door. Dressed the same as they were the day before were two Imperial soldiers, blank-faced and sweaty.

“James Archeron, His Royal Highness has called upon your family to send one man to the front. In return, he has deemed ten gold marks as compensation for your family’s sacrifice.”

Behind me, Nesta scoffed at the word ‘sacrifice’ and muttered to Elain something I chose not to hear.

“I will be going to represent my family,” my father stood as tall as he could. Today he had forgone his crutch, mustering up the strength to stand on his own. I could almost see the strong man he used to me. Brave, fearless, the man my mother fell in love with during the war from so long ago. Her passing destroyed what was left of his spirit after he was injured in that final battle.

I swallowed hard to rein in the emotions I kept on a tight leash. It was pointless to dwell on the past when the future held such uncertainty.

The soldier who didn’t speak noted something on his paper and reached into a sack that clinked. He counted out ten coins and placed them in my father’s hand. Nesta stopped muttering at the flash of gold, probably thinking of ways to spend it.

“You are expected at the main encampment outside of Velaris in one week. Be there or you and your family will be held responsible for abandonment. It is treason and punishable by death.” I paled at the words. I didn’t want to know what the punishment would be for the plan I had formed.

My father gave a short bow, testing the limits of his strength and balance. “One week.”

The soldiers deemed the response appropriate and retreated down the pathway back to the road. My father shut the door and slumped against it, the end of his ability to stand on his own. Elain rushed forward, cooing her concern and helped him to a nearby chair.

Tears shone in her eyes and she begged, “Father, please don’t go. You’ll be killed. You fought in the last war and nearly gave your life for Prythian. I’ll go fetch back the soldiers and I’m sure they’ll understand.”

He looked down into Elain’s face, taking in her distress. “I hear you, my love, but I must serve my country. In any way I can.” He looked away, fearing that his resolve would crumble under Elain’s doe-eyed gaze.

Father’s brushoff broke whatever dam Elain was using as the tears began to flow down her face. He made no move to reach for her or comfort her, only continuing to stare into the distance with a vaguely pained look.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Our cottage had few places to hide but Elain managed to find one to disappear into the moment her plate was clear. Nesta stayed at the table, wanting to comfort her but knowing she was helpless to do so.

I collected the plates, bringing them to the basin that acted as our sink. We were lucky enough to have a small water pump in the house, useful until it froze in the winter. Suppressing a sigh, I started to wash the dishes, letting myself get lost in the simple task.

Behind me, my father released an accompanying sigh, probably subconsciously. He stood from the table, limping over to the chest that was tucked into the corner. There would have been dust on the top had not for Elain’s random dusting.

I continued to wash the dishes and listened to the sounds of old hinges creaking open and fabric rustling. Even though the chest was seldom opened, we all knew what was in it. Mother’s wedding dress and father’s armor from the war.

With no more dishes to distract me, I turned around. The leather and old metal gleamed dully in the fading light of the sun coming through the windows. A crossed sickle and sword were stamped into the breastplate, the sigil of the old Emperor, now dead and gone, his cousin in his place.

Nesta stiffened at the sight of the armor, leaning back in her seat to put distance between herself and it. My father had reclaimed his chair and was now running his hands over the leather, feeling the cracks and nicks in them from battles past.

I said nothing, quietly observing as he lost himself in his memories. The glory he won on the battlefield and the costs of it.

On the far side of the table, the hilt of a sword peeked over the flat surface. My fingers itched to go to it, to test the steel that would soon be mine. The steel that I would soon entrust my life to.

Minutes ticked by until Nesta was finally too disgusted to stay at the table. She may have wished to have nothing to do with him, but he was important to Elain. And whatever was important to Elain was something she would fight for. This, however, was pushing the limits.

“I leave tomorrow,” my father said, not looking at me. With him sitting down and facing away from me, he almost looked the part of a soldier. The deeply etched lines on his face hidden and his ruined knee tucked under the table.

The wound had been brutal, my mother told me on her death bed. Her final words were trying to explain how my father was brought so low instead of ones of love.

It was the final battle against a force that had been erased from our spoken history. A harsh winter storm had hit in the middle of the battle, visibility brought down to where you could only see the man in front of you. For hours he had swung that sword over and over again, felling man after man, staining the fresh snow red before it became muddy with trampling feet. His strength faltered when an enemy blindly swung and cut a deep wound in his thigh. Another one then landed the crippling blow to his knee. He fell onto the piled bodies, more landing on top of him, nearly burying him alive. That was the only thing that kept him alive, despite adding more pressure to the shattered knee. His cries for help were drowned out until the battle was over. His surviving comrades pulled him from beneath the dead, himself almost one of them.

My mother was a healer in the army, they had met after an earlier brutal battle. She was the one who healed him and loved him despite the permanent blow to his soul. They married after the war, Nesta appearing soon after. He tried his best for years, or what was left of his best. Both of them taking work where they could, until her parents left them this small cottage and a few animals.

Her death was the undoing of him. Whatever strength he had left failed him. Now only his pride and Elain kept him alive.

And I have worked every day to keep them all alive. I _would_ keep them all alive. I would make the sacrifice to keep my father from going to war again. To ensure that Elain kept her father.

I left the room without replying to him, fearing that anything I say would give away my plan. After stripping out of my clothes and into a shift, I crawled into bed with my sisters, savoring what might be the last time I lay beside them.

For in a few hours, I would be leaving this house a changed woman. Or man, depending on how you looked at it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmm this chapter was a bit angsty at the end, let’s see where I can work some humor in…


	4. The Ancestors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More like the An-SASS-ters, amiright? Made this just a little mini chapter for fun, I kinda like the concept, like commentary on the story.

“She is not.”

“She absolutely is, look at her.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Language,” one hissed.

“I’m dead, Mother, I’m allowed to swear.”

“There she goes.”

Spirits of Archeron past watched her softly close the door behind her, armor piled in her arms and stuffed into the bag.

“She’ll never make it past the camp borders.”

“Not looking like _that_ ,” one sneered.

“At least she’s taking her bow with her,” one sniffed, disgusted and intrigued at the same time, “She’ll never be able to wield that sword.”

The woman below had stopped at the small garden in the back, looking at it with pain before moving onto the patch of trees beyond. There she knelt by the stream, taking in her appearance in the moonlit water.

“I hope she is rethinking this entire foolish plan.”

“She is determined to save her father; nothing will stop her now.”

“She gets that stubbornness from _your_ side of the family.”

“I distinctly remember crossdressing to be a trait on your side, remember Craig?”

“Hush!” came the command. Attention turned back to the woman below.

She was gathering her hair in one hand, the hilt of the unsheathed sword in the other. With a final inhale, she quickly cut through her hair. Chunks fell in the river and floated away.

“No going back now,” one muttered.

Hisses of disapproval wove through the spirits. The woman below continued to saw off her hair until it was just above shoulder length.

“That’s all?”

“Wait.”

She took out a leather cord, tying her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck. Checking her appearance in the water, she let out a small sigh.

“ _Now_ she’s realizing that this will never work? Clearly she’s an Archeron.”

“Are you calling us stupid?”

“More like shortsighted.”

More hisses began to turn on each other.

“Quiet, you idiots.”

The woman began to take off her clothes, pulling out the armor.

“Shouldn’t we give her some privacy?”

“She decided to wake us all up with her stupid decision making, she can deal with a few spectral spectators for this.”

From the bag came a long piece of linen. She wrapped it around her breasts until they were flattened, the bulk partially shifted now to give her chest a slightly broader appearance.

“This will never work.”

“Men will only see what they want to see. The captain has called on men for reinforcements, so a man he shall see.”

Piece by piece, armor was strapped to her body, fingers fumbling over the unfamiliar straps and buckles. Soon, where a woman once stood was now a pale-faced soldier. The soft curves of her body had been straightened. Her face which once looked feminine now was boyish and young. The lines between them blurred enough that she would look like a teen trying to win glory for his family. A young man who would probably die for it, too young to know the world.

“We can’t let her do this.”

“She must, it is the path destiny wants her to take.”

“Her father should not have answered the conscription call.”  
“His pride would not have allowed otherwise.”  
“Foolish man. Foolish girl. Foolish family,” one spat.


	5. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally looked up army rankings annnnnnnnd I fucked up….. I changed Rhys into a General so Cas and Az will be Captains. We’ll probably be sticking with Feyre’s perspective for a while, but Rhys (or the others) will come in later!

I straightened my spine, lifting my chin and throwing back my shoulders. _Look like a man, act like a man, be a man,_ I commanded myself. The posture was stiff and awkward, my muscles trembling at trying to hold it. Releasing a sigh, I slumped out of the pose. _Ridiculous, you looked ridiculous Feyre._

“This is fucking hopeless,” I muttered, easing down onto a rock. The armor was stiff and heavy, clearly built for a frame bigger than mine. Hair was starting to escape from the low bun. Another _great_ decision by me, cutting my hair with a sword.

The war camp was still a two-day trek away and my muscles were already aching. Chores around the house and with animals coupled with treks through the woods had kept me fit, but not to the point of hauling around armor, a sword, and my supplies. The late afternoon sun beat down on me, shade had been far and few in between on the road. Sweat slicked my skin and my clothes stunk of it. _At least I_ smell _like a man._

I shifted, trying to keep the sword pommel from digging into my side, I still haven’t figured out how to have it sit comfortably at my side. Much less how to use it.

When I finally stopped for the night on the first day away from home, it was too dark for me to try it out. I had spent the whole day at a brisk walk, fearing that my family would come after me. Or worse, they would send the soldiers to find the imposter. I tried over and over again to shake those thoughts, trying to reassure myself that they wouldn’t put me in that danger. More likely, however, was that Nesta wouldn’t want to bring that kind of dishonor upon the family. She would rather me die far away and then deal with the fallout.

I relaxed a little on the second day, slightly reassured that no one was on my tail. I stopped in the early evening that time when there was still light. Drawing the sword from its sheath, I tested its weight and balance. Like the armor, it was made for someone with more muscle than me, but the weight was not unmanageable. I would need to hold it with two hands until my arms strengthened. Which would mean no shield for me. Maybe they would let me use my bow instead…

A few test swings already had my muscles weakening, even more sweat running down my back. I sighed and returned it to its sheath, determined to worry about it more during training. No use trying to learn how to wield it and then developing bad habits.

Today was the third day and I was exhausted. Most of my anxiety about being followed was now replaced with what the hell I was going to do when I got to the camp. Questions plagued me like who did I report to? Where was I going to sleep? And how the _fuck_ was I going to hide that I was a woman?

_Shit. Oh Feyre, how your ancestors must be laughing at you._

**(They’re currently cursing her stupidity)**

I hauled my aching body to its feet again, pressing forward for a few more hours before stopping for the night.

More grassy plains stretched out, broken by the occasional patch of trees or farmland. I’ve been avoiding any towns, skirting around them, not wanting to put my disguise to the test quite yet.

Finally, with the sky deepening to periwinkle did I stop under a crop of trees. A nearby stream gurgled, cool and inviting. Dropping my pack at the base of a tree, I stumbled on sore feet to the source of the sound, nearly collapsing to my knees to drink from the stream. I splashed my face a few times to wash off the dried sweat. It had been hours since I last saw another human and it was almost dark out, but it was still too risky to take a dip in the water to wash off the grime and dust. That would just have to wait.

With a small fire flickering across my face, I drifted off to sleep, my dreams filled with mocking voices and bloody battle cries.

* * *

The increase of activity was the first warning I had that I was close to the war camp. A few miles back, the small country path I was on dumped me onto the main road. More and more bodies began to trickle onto the road; soldiers and merchants and peasants and wealthy either coming or going. Voices rose and fell, pouring in from all sides.

I kept my head down, no more than a boy scurrying to make his summons to the front. None stopped me or looked my way for more than a second, all preoccupied with their own mission. Spotting a group of soldiers that looked like they were heading the same way as me, I started to trail them from a distance, not wanting to have to ask for directions.

In the distance was Velaris. Even from far away, the buildings sparkled in the late morning light. Far enough away from the front, the buildings were unmarred by the scars of war. Had it not been for the smoke coming from the many campfires, it was almost easy to pretend that there was no war at all, and that I was there to explore the city famed for its artists.

The soldiers ahead veered off, taking the road to the left that led to the war camp. My heart pounded in my ears. Each step was one closer to potential discovery and certain death. More bodies packed in, the stink of men shoving its way up my nose. By smell alone, I fit in perfectly.

Tents every color filled the horizon, like someone had overturned a fruit cart on a hill. Even miles from the front, whoever had picked the site had chosen well. Situated on a ridge, it was easily defensible, visibility for miles around. Lines had formed, each one ending with someone who looked high ranking were taking names and giving orders. I picked the line closest to the road, in case I needed to make a quick escape.

Inch by inch we crawled forward, voices pressing in from every side. Some had come together, lifelong friends from villages who joked and shoved and laughed. Others, like me, we quiet, solidary, either too scared to talk to someone new or too knowing of the fate that lay ahead.

Minutes that felt like hours and hours that felt like seconds went by until I was the next to report in.

“Name?” the bored voice came, barely looking up from their paper.

“Flynn Archeron,” I said, trying to make my voice deep and even.

The commander's head lifted at that, his eyes meeting mine.

 _Shit shit shit shit SHIT_. What had I done? Was my voice too deep? Too high? Did my chest binding come loose? Cold fear sluiced through my body, even more sweat streaming down my body, metallic saliva pooling in my mouth.

“Archeron, huh,” the man mused, taking in my form. “Knew him back in the war. Good soldier,” he grunted, lost in memory, “Shame about his leg.” He looked over me again, “Guess he married that healer after all.”

When he looked back down at the paper again, scribbling my name, I let out a breath of relief.

“You’ll be reporting to Lieutenant Tamlin Verdant, to the right, about halfway down the tents. Big, blond man, can’t miss him.” And that was that.

“Thank you, sir,” I set off to find him, the first test passed. Only a million more to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing a paint on wood map of ToG and ACOTAR, here's the first layer and outline!   
> https://missbrightsky.tumblr.com/post/624305499965374464/first-outline-of-my-throne-of-glass-map


	6. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry y’all, no Rhys yet but he will be here soon ;)

“Flynn Archeron reporting for duty, sir,” I stood at rapt attention, trying not to make eye contact with the blond man in front of me. Pine green eyes swept up and down my form; harsh, critical, assessing.

My poor body pumped out even more adrenaline, _I’ve got to run out at some point…_ I snapped off that train of thought as Lieutenant Verdant’s mouth opened.

“How old are you, boy?” his voice drawing my eyes to his unwillingly.

“Eighteen, sir,” I answered.

“Humph,” he grunted, jotting down my name on his list. “You’ve even been in a fight before?”

“No… well, there was one time my arrow didn’t kill a raccoon immediately and I had to pin it to finish the job,” _shut you fucking mouth, Feyre, why the fuck are you rambling to your officer about a raccoon you killed._

Tamlin only lifting an eyebrow at the story. I guess he dealt with enough new recruits to know that they tended to talk when they’re nervous. “So you can shoot?”

“Yes sir,” I said, “Usually pretty accurate or my family doesn’t eat.”

“Any experience with a sword?”

“No, sir.”

“Very well. Training starts tomorrow at dawn, you’ll be sharing a tent with Alex.” He pointed me in the direction of my new home for the next several weeks.

 _You’ll be sharing a tent with Alex_ , echoed in my mind. _Well, if_ that _doesn’t add another layer to my problems._

There was no room for argument on his face so I had no other choice than to follow his finger and go meet my new tentmate. I trudged over to the small structure. It looked to be standard military issue, several more like it nearby. Unadorned white canvas hung over a frame of poles. Simple and easily transportable. And small. So, so small with no room to hide.

 _Fucking hell, Feyre, what have you done_ , I said to myself for the millionth time. Looks like that mantra wasn’t going away anytime soon.

Pushing the flap aside, I ducked in, trying to survey the person inside as quickly as possible.

In the dim light, brown skin soaked up the ray of sun coming into the tent. A man who looked more like a boy sat on his bedroll reading a small book. He looked up when I entered, narrowing his eyes against the sudden light.

I warily stepped in, mentally running through all the characteristics of what I thought a man would do and act like.

“Hi,” I said lamely, trying to pitch my voice low, “I’m Flynn.” The effect of the voice was lost by me having to hunch over to avoid hitting the pole that spanned the length of the tent.

The boy/man looked at me and burst out laughing causing my face and ears to burn red. “Nice try,” he managed to say between chuckles, “but you look the same age as me and my voice is nowhere near to that low.”

I looked to the ground, cursing at my failed attempt.

“Aw don’t look so sad, I was only teasing,” he put his book on his pillow and reached out a hand to shake mine. I dropped my sack at the end of the bedroll that was waiting for me and grasped his hand. Calluses brushed up against mine, another person who was used to work.

“I’m Alex,” he introduced himself, giving me an apologetic smile.

I let myself return it with a small smile of my own. “I know, Lieutenant Verdant said we were to share a tent.”

“Fine by me, but my opinion doesn’t matter. He doesn’t look like a guy I would want to get into an argument with.”

“You’ve got that right,” I blurted. It was probably a bad idea to criticize my commanding officer to another who was under him. To my relief, Alex let out another laugh, agreeing with my tone.

I took the opportunity to sit on the bedroll and sort through my bag.

“So where are you from, Flynn?” the question came.

“Couple of days east of here, a small town that no one knows,” it was already easy to chat with Alex. A few days alone on the road loosened my tongue. “And you?”

“Couple of days south of here, a small town that no one knows,” he echoed my words, bringing another smile to my lips. If I had to share a tent with someone, at least it was someone who was easy to get along with. If I didn’t have to worry about letting who I was slip at any moment, Alex and I would have no problems becoming fast friends. I briefly wondered what would happen if he found out, but I shut that line of thought down. Thinking about it would only distract me from keeping up the ruse.

We fell into easy chatter about our lives back home. He was the fifth of seven children, the fourth boy of the family. They were farmers, corn mostly but his youngest sister loved gardening. Him mentioning that made me bring up Elain and how she loved her garden and flowers. I nearly slipped once or twice but recovered easily, I was getting used to the speech pattern of men and how to pitch my voice into a necessary range.

Outside, I could hear more soldiers pour in and walk by. Snippets of conversation floated in the air, men from all over answering the conscription notices of General Knight. There would be no training tonight, allowing those arriving one evening of rest before starting.

It had been midafternoon when first enter the camp. Alex and I had talked long enough that it had become early evening. The dinner bell rang out across the tents and our stomachs growled in response. We both stood to go answer it.

“You can take off your armor, you must be dying in it. No one will attack here,” Alex pointed out.

“Uhhhhhhh,” I drew out, sounding like an idiot. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I mumbled. I prayed to my ancestors that I could still pass as a boy without the chest plate.

Unbuckling the straps, I slowly slung off the plate and greaves, placing them on my bedroll. I stood and pulled back the tent flap to join Alex where he had stepped outside, chanting a string of half-forgotten prayers. He barely glanced in my direction and started off towards where others were gathering.

 _Whew._ I had also added extra padding to my sides to try and get rid of my curves and it seemed to be working. Dinner would be one more massive test to pass before the day was done.

Alex remained oblivious to my fear and secret, starting up a new conversation of what would be for dinner and what training might be like tomorrow. Bodies streamed in from all directions. This section of the camp seemed to be just for new recruits, fresh faces like mine and Alex’s. Most seemed to be about our age, but there were a few that had their age carved into their face or sprinkled on their hair.

 _Father, brothers, husbands, everyone has a family that they might never see again._ The thought pulled my mind down, down, down, the reality of my situation finally settling in. I wasn’t a girl that had run away from home. I was a soldier in the Imperial army, being trained in combat to be sent to the front to fight and probably die.

Some faces reflected my thoughts, those that knew they will most likely meet their ancestors soon. Others were open and happy, shouting greetings and jokes. Alex hadn’t yet seen my face, giving me time to pull myself out of the dark hole I had fallen into. When he turned back to me, I had hopefully rearranged it into something that resembled the ease of before.

Dinner was a slop of mush onto a dinged-up metal plate with an equally dinged up cup of water and a metal spoon. However, despite its appearance, the mush was surprisingly palatable with a chunk of meat or two hidden in it. Probably a delicacy compared to the food at the front.

I let Alex take the lead as he searched for a fire for us to sit around. Close to where our tent was, he chose a half-full ring of men, taking a seat on one of the logs there with a ‘hello’. A chorus of hellos rang back, as much as permission to sit we’ll get.

In the firelight, more young faces like ours glowed. Introductions were made and I forgot about half of them immediately. I knew the golden-haired one to my left was Will, easy to remember with his missing ear.

“Half crazed wolf tore it right off when I was seven. Killed it myself as retribution,” he declared. A cry of disbelief and jeering rose up in response, calling bullshit on his story.

Elijah right across from me had the most expressive face I had ever seen, seldom without a smile or frown or emotion of his making. His booming voice, deceptive for how young he looked, captured everyone’s attention. His brown eyes were filled with mischief and energy.

Adam was his polar opposite. He spent the dinner in silence, only answering when spoken to. Even Elijah’s raunchiest stories couldn’t draw a chuckle out of him. But even with his silent demeanor, there was nothing aggressive or rude about him, he was just quiet, content to let the conversation wash over him.

All around the fire were also beneath Tamlin’s command. Alex shared his opinion of him and was met with confirmation. The others had arrived either yesterday or the day before. Tamlin Verdant was a hard bastard who took no excuses and, indeed, was not someone you would want to get in an argument with.

Plates cleared and returned to the kitchen tent, we chatted until the sky deepened from purple into black, the stars overhead watching the new recruits begin to form relationships that could save their lives on the battlefield.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catching me standing in front of my mirror trying to figure out how to make myself look like a man.


	7. The Ancestors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well if its written, might as well get it out to y’all.  
> Just a little heavenly commentary

“She _dares_ pray to us! For protection! For guidance!”

“Well here’s _my_ guidance,” one seethed, “You’re a fool and a halfwit and you will sooner be executed for treason than die on the battlefield.”

“That wasn’t guidance as so much a curse.”

“You’ve got anything better to say?”

Silence was the only answer. None of them had believed she would make it this far without being caught. One test after another had come and gone, her making it past them by the skin of her teeth.

She now slept in a tent next to a man, barely two feet between them.

“Improper,” one muttered.

“This whole _situation_ is improper,” one answered.

The woman had managed to make it past the soldier at the front, past her new commanding officer and now shared space with a man who failed to see the woman beneath.

“I give her a week,” one mused, amusement tingeing their voice.

“She shouldn’t have made it past the front gate, surely training will reveal her nature. She’ll be executed by mid-day tomorrow.”

“I think she’ll make it.”

The others turned to the voice. One that had been silent until now.

“Look who finally deigned to speak.”

They paid no attention to the insult, instead merely watching the woman soldier below. Old intelligence gleamed in their eyes. Here was one who had seen multiple lifetimes pass by. Each generation had their fools and heroes, each generation had their triumphs and devastations. They had seen this family rise and fall from greatness and poverty. The Archeron’s had a long history, something the others had forgotten.

“I think she’ll make it,” they repeated. Some turned away, sniffing their disgust. Others continued to watch the one that had spoken, knowing how old they were and what they had seen.

The woman below tossed and turned, sleep had come to her fitfully, dreams filled with blood and screams and death. A premonition of what was to come. The others saw her dreams, commenting on how accurate they would likely be.

The one who believed leaned a little closer to where heaven and earth met, ancient words slipping out of their mouth.

“On the eve of death, may you fear no evil, feel no pain. May you stand tall with honor and bring it upon your family. May when you fall, you fall with grace. May when you lie in your grave, you will do so knowing that the price you paid was not in vain. On the eve of death, may you fear no evil, feel no pain.”

The woman below stilled, the old blessing settling over her like a blanket. It was all they could offer against the riptide of fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m having too much fun writing this
> 
> I finished my painting of the ToG map! I would love really appreciate it if you took a look ♥️  
> https://missbrightsky.tumblr.com/post/624831934486429696/finished-my-throne-of-glass-map-im-absolutely-in


	8. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry, when Rhys shows up, we’ll have the scene where Mulan straight up gapes at Shane’s chest.

“This morning you will be running five miles, keep up.” That was all the warning we got before the lieutenant took off, leaving us to scramble after his disappearing back.

Even going to bed at a decent time last night, the first bell of the morning was a ridiculously early time to wake up. Stumbling and bleary-eyed, we gathered in a small clearing near the tents. Tamlin looked unfairly awake and ready to run us into the ground.

And one hour later he had done just that. The first mile: a rude wake-up call. The second two: a small taste of agony. The last two: the beginning of hell on earth. Tamlin set a brutal pace the entire time. By the end, he looked barely winded while the rest of us were heaving up the remains of last night’s dinner. Alex had fared no better than me, both of us doubled over with our hands braced on our shaking knees. Elijah, however, had managed to keep up a small stream of chatter the entire time, and though he was sweating and panting, he looked like he could go another five.

I sucked in as much humid morning air I could, the sun that was hiding behind the horizon had finally started its ascent, burning away the protective mist. Alex let out a groan beside me, his stomach clenching.

“If… you… puke… on… me…” each word was a gasp between breaths, “You’re… sleeping… outside.”

A rasping chuckle escaped his throat and thank the gods he managed to turn away before spitting up a vile liquid. My muscles burned like they never had before, my lungs felt as though someone had taken a dagger to them.

“Follow me,” were the only words Tamlin deigned to say to his whelps. He strode away, aiming for a large wooden structure, the only permanent building of the camp. Despite the still early hour, the sound of metal striking met my ears. The camp armory. Tamlin ducked inside a shed attached to the side and emerged dragging a crate. All of us limped up (except Elijah, damn him) and formed a loose semi-circle around him.

“Take a sword and pair up.”

Alex and I gave each other a small nod before grabbing a wooden sword each. We distanced ourselves slightly from the group, looking to Tamlin for the next command.

Over the next hour, Tamlin ran us through the basics of swordplay. Even though the battlefield was a hellish mess, it was still important to learn the basics so that we would have a higher chance of hitting the enemy rather than ourselves, or worse, each other.

As the drills progressed, it was obvious that Tamlin was… displeased with the state of our swordplay skills. Though every word that came out his mouth was only corrections, his tone made it clear that we have a long way to go.

The sun rose higher and higher, burning stronger with each minute. More and more sweat poured off my body, off all of our bodies. Some had stripped off their shirts, favoring the cool breeze over what little protection their clothes offered them from their partner’s blows. For obvious reasons, I kept my shirt on.

When Tamlin finally called for a halt, even Elijah finally looked winded. I could barely raise my arms anymore, wincing with pain from the blows Alex had landed. At least I had the satisfaction that I had gotten a few on him too, and he was just as exhausted as I was.

“You have thirty minutes for breakfast,” Tamlin said, his green gaze raking over the sorry state of his recruits, “Then you’ll be reporting to Captain Cassian Knight for formation. Do _not_ embarrass me.”

The relief in the air was palpable. We all dropped our swords into the crate and slowly made our way to the pot of gruel that was waiting for us.

Breakfast was the same as dinner. We sat around the same—now extinguished—fire with the same people, all of us still too tired to start up a conversation. Except for Elijah, who had already managed to bounce back and start up a one-sided commentary about our training this morning.

Exactly thirty minutes later, we found ourselves in the heart of the camp. Tamlin had us lined up in three columns of ten with him at the front. From what I could tell, at least a dozen other commanders were doing the same with their troops. We faced a massive war tent, the Imperial flag flying high from the tallest pole.

“Quiet!” came the booming voice. All eyes turned to the front, focusing on the man who had barked the order.

Tamlin had lined us up by height, which put me in the second row from the front. From there, I could note that the man, Captain Knight I assumed, had dark brown hair that was tied in a tight bun at the nape of his neck. His frame was tall and bulky, similar to Tamlin’s, but he seemed more… grounded, secure. The captain surveyed the now quiet troops, his dark eyes carefully noting every detail.

Often there was little news from the fronts, other than what battles we’ve won and the losses. If families were lucky, they got a letter from Captain Knight himself about the death of their son or husband. The letters were short, but they still conveyed his sorrow for their loss and how much he admired them as a soldier. It was one of the few comforts the families could get. There were too many bodies for the army to send back, so they got burned in mass pyres.

What soldiers did make it home, they were too injured to continue fighting. Some now spent their days drinking away what little money they had from their pay at the pub in town, spewing their war stories and triumphs. Some spoke of the legendary Captain Knight, who led his troops through hell and back with a smile on his face. Yes, news was little from the front, but even I had heard of Cassian Knight, the leashed beast of General Knight’s.

“Soldiers, the Emperor thanks you for your service and loyalty,” he started, “Over the next three weeks, we will be training you men in swordplay, archery and hand to hand combat. Although most of our battles are fought sword to sword, you might lose your weapon on the battlefield and must survive until you can regain it or regroup. Along with battle training, you will be doing general strength and stamina training, as some of you might have already had the privilege of partaking in this morning,” he said with a hint of humor in his voice. One or two brave chuckles or moans wove through the ranks before silencing again. Captain Knight’s face turned solemn at this point and there was a collective intake of breath.

“Not all of you will make it home, I will not lie to you on that,” his voice grave but not soft. “This war has taken a terrible toll on Prythian and its people. But I swear to you all, through every battle, through every hard night, I will be there fighting for our country. We all will be fighting for our country! Our people!” his voice rose into a passioned pitch, dragging us all along with us. The lieutenants yells rose with the captain's voice, prompting the rest of us to follow suit.

Forcing my voice low and hoarse, I joined in on the battle cries, my heart thundering in my chest with the savage beat of war.

_For my father._

_For my sisters._

_For Prythian._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmm I still haven’t decided how long I want this to be. I’m trying to keep an even pace and not rush anything. I have some plot points written out, but if there’s anything specific you want to see, lmk.


	9. Rhysand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Rhys, I always write him as tired but that’s war I guess
> 
> Also, if I go MIA for two weeks, it's because I'm on a massive reading binge

_Brother,_

_The recruits have been in training for almost a week now, a little over 350 in all. I know this was not as many as you had hoped for, but the families of Prythian are running out of sons and fathers. Even though the majority of them are young, they show great promise._

_There are already a few that came in with archery skills, mostly from hunting. I have been working with them personally to improve their skills. I think that they might be what we need to execute my next plan when I return to the front in two weeks._

_Do you still plan to visit? If you do, please bring Morrigan so that I can replay our last hand of cards together, I’m convinced she cheated last time. I have also written a letter to her say that if I can’t convince you to visit, that she must do so. This will likely be the last time we will all be in Velaris together and I want to spend it as a family._

_Cas_

_P.S. Tamlin is still somehow one of the lieutenants here and I know how much you like to spar against him._

I set down the letter, rubbing my tired eyes. The midnight bell had struck long ago, and my candles were now burning low. I knew I should go to bed soon but there was too much swirling in my head.

Cassian’s letter had been a mix of good and bad news. He was right, however, Prythian’s families can hardly bear the strain of a war that has gone on too long. Soon, there will need to be a breaking point, one way or the other. I could only pray to the forgotten gods that they will favor us in the upcoming battles.

 _Tomorrow, write him back tomorrow and get some sleep_ , the gentle voice slipped into my head. Morrigan. Somehow, even when she wasn’t around, that voice would sometimes speak. My cousin managed to be a healer even when I was alone in the dead of night.

We were still holed up in the same fortress from a few weeks ago, letting our men get some much-needed rest. The past several months had been hard on them. Battle after battle have taken their brother’s in arms and it had taken its toll on them.

Az’s scouts had reported no new movement from Hybern. It seems that the last battle had also gouged out a chunk of their ranks too, but they still outnumbered us almost two to one.

A sigh escaped from my nose causing the last candle to gutter. With another sigh, I let my breath blow it out, the room falling into a darkness only lightened by a sliver of moon from the window.

That, and given how small the room was, I easily found my way to my bed, collapsing on top of it.

And even with the approaching end of the war, even with all of the lost souls weighing on my mind, sleep was quick to claim me.

_Brother,_

_Despite the lower number of troops than we were hoping for, it’s good to know that their training is coming along well. If the plan you’re referring to is the one I think it is, then Hybern will need to pray to their gods for forgiveness of the hell we will unleash upon them._

_Yes, I will be leaving tomorrow to join you at the camp to oversee the new troops before they make their trek to the front. And yes, I will be sure that Morrigan accompanies me because you will need a healer if you intend to drink with Amren in Velaris._

_I will have to tear Azriel away from his tent and his spies, but he will be coming too._

_Rhys_

_P.S. I will expect to see Tamlin in a sparring ring the moment I arrive._

Sealing the letter with a glob of wax, I halted one of the pages in the hall, asking him to dispatch it to the nearest rider. He dashed off with a quick bob of his head.

I had slept longer than I intended, the sun already nearly at its apex when I finished writing the letter and stepped out of the room. Cas had mentioned writing a letter to Mor, it had been too long since I spoke to her, so I set off to find her.

The fortress, Windhaven, was a massive complex of stone, but its size wasn’t the reason I rarely saw her. No, that would be due to how busy we both were. I only saw Az on a regular basis because he gave reports to me every other day, but even those were brief and left little time for social conversation.

Men lined the halls, I greeted as many as I could. Some ate, some slept, some talked quietly amongst themselves. Even though I gave up the chance for a large room, I still felt guilty for having the broom closet-sized on that could barely fit my desk and bed. These men deserved what little comfort I could offer them, but I had none. At least Hybern was laying low so they could rest.

Down, down, down the many stairs Windhaven had until I reach the catacombs beneath the healers had claimed. Even with the bodies and torches, the stone encasing the warren of large rooms kept the underground infirmary cool, good for fighting off fevers and infections.

Even with weeks between us and the last battle, men still laid on the cots and blankets packed in the rooms, recovering from their injuries.

Each one was another cut to add to my bleeding heart, guilt-wracked my body. Every battle, every skirmish, I was out there fighting with them, for them, but I still couldn’t save them all. As I walked by, I clasped hands and offered words of strength. Each man was eager to shake my hand, hear my words as though they were water to a parched throat.

A golden bun shone in the dim light, currently bowed over a man’s leg. I made my way towards it, waiting a small distance away. For as much as my cousin and I loved each other, she got snappish when someone tried to interrupt her when she was healing someone.

Minutes ticked by until she straightened, rolling out her tense shoulders. With a warm smile to her patient, Mor turned to face him.

“Rhys, are you here to tell me that Cassian failed to persuade you and now I have to? Because I really don’t have the time.”

I let out my first chuckle, no matter how small it was, in weeks. “Good to see you too, Mor.” She just shook her head, but I could see a small smile forming on her lips too.

“Well if you’re here and we’re talking, might as well keep our hands busy. “Andromache?” she called out. A pretty, dark-skinned woman with curly black hair that was barely contained in a bun, turned towards her. “Keep an eye on Briggs for me, he’s determined to pull his stitches out.” Andromache nodded, drifting past Mor with a quick brush of their shoulders.

I followed Mor even further into the healer’s warrens where several worktables had been set up. Most of the healers were either sleeping in the small room in the back or out amongst the soldiers administering care, giving us a small bit of privacy.

She shoved a cloth into my hands and ordered me to start tearing it into strips. “No, you don’t have to persuade me,” I said after we fell into a rhythm, “We leave for Velaris tomorrow.”

“I’m needed here,” her voice clear and strong, little room for argument.

“I know,” I conceded, “But this could be the last time we all see each other. Az said that Hybern shows no sign of moving, but something is coming, I can feel it. Perhaps it’s the end of the war, perhaps it’s something else.” I turned my head slightly to read her face. Tiny creases had begun to appear at the corners of her eyes and mouth, the barest hint of aging. We were all young by time’s standards, but this war had hit everyone hard, even my bright, unshakable cousin. Light smudges were under her amber eyes, mirror to mine. It looks like both of us wasn’t getting the sleep the other suggested.

Mor released a sigh, it as tired and laden with worry as mine. “Very well, I’ll accompany you. _Only_ , if you can drag Az with us too. We do this last time right.”

“Even if I tie him to a horse, Az will be with us when we leave,” allowing a bit of humor to break into my low voice.

Mor chuckled, “Good, it’s been a long time since I saw Amren drink Cas under the table.” I shuddered at the thought of what that night would entail, but it would be good, I think, to take just one night to enjoy my family before the next storm breaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check me out on tiktok @acotartrash I'm going to start making funny acotar and tog videos!


	10. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just can’t give up Tamlin the Tool, it fits too well

“Farther,” Captain Knight commanded. I struggled to obey, pulling my strained arm back even more, taking a slow, steadying breath to line up the target.

“Release.”

I let the arrow fly, straight and true. It thunked on the distant target, just a hair shy of a bullseye.

“Good,” he praised, clapping me on the shoulder. I gave Captain Knight a small nod before rolling my shoulder. The past week and a half of training had been hard on my body. Hard on everyone beneath Tamlin’s command. Every day we woke up at dawn for that dreaded five-mile run and every night I fell into my bedroll, too exhausted to worry about anyone discovering I was a woman.

But, every day that five-mile run was a little bit easier and every day I relaxed a little more as no one looked too closely at my woman’s face masquerading as a boyish one. Alex and I had continued to bond with each other in this first ring of hell along with the others. Morning, noon and night, we ate, trained and bitched with and about each other and Tamlin (or Lieutenant Tool as some of us had started calling him when he wasn’t around). We knew what waited for us at the front, but the thoughts were eased by comradery.

It has now been just over two weeks since I left home, two weeks since I cut my hair and changed my name and left my family. Left my sisters behind to save my father from a bloody death. To trade his life with my own.

I returned to the small group behind me. Cassian’s hand-picked archers from the recruits. For what purpose, he hasn’t told us yet, but every day after lunch we got excused from our lieutenants’ trainings to work with him.

How I got here? I’m not really sure.

After formation on that first day, Captain Knight asked the lieutenants to send all recruits that had a decent aim to him. Judging by the look Tamlin’s face, he didn’t like Cassian or his order very much but sent me and Adam along with about thirty others from the other lieutenants.

He had us shooting arrows for almost two hours, walking back and forth with a critical eye.

The sweating and trembling I did that afternoon had little to do with the heat or that morning’s exertion. A man like Cassian didn’t get to where he was by not noticing the tiniest of details. I should have been executed on the spot by the firing squad he had assembled.

Instead, I had been picked to be in the group of archers that he now trains every day.

Had I been a smarter woman, I would have failed the test and gone back to basic training, no more worries about Cassian figuring out that she didn’t belong here. But something in my chest tugged me _forward_ , tugged me to pull back that string a little more, to aim a little more carefully before letting the arrow fly.

So here I was, getting instruction and praise from one of the most well-known captains in Prythian.

Adam finished his turn taking aim, returning to my side. He still didn’t say much, but we got along fine. Tamlin wasn’t too happy that every afternoon, he lost two soldiers to Cassian, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Cassian paced up and down in front of us, examining the targets that now bristled with arrows before facing us again. “Good job men,” I held back my wince at the m-word, “You have made steady progress in archery. I’m sure you all have been wondering why I assembled this group.” Murmurs broke out, confirming that we were indeed curious about why the captain had chosen us. Cassian waited for them to stop, “I can’t tell you much right now, but when we get to the front, I will be handing out special assignments when necessary.”

My heart picked up into a stuttering race. Not only had I managed to get myself personal instruction from a decorated captain, but now I would be going on special assignments. Certainly, the gods were looking down on me and laughing.

“That’s all for today, go find your lieutenants.”

We dispersed, Adam and I weaving a path back to where our group would be. We were nearing the entrance to the camp when thundering hooves filled the air. Two men and a woman rode in, barely checking their pace as they passed the front row of tents.

Adam and I edged out of the way, curious as to whom would ride in so recklessly but also not wanting to get trampled. I eyed the trio from the corner of my eye, trying not to look too interested. Both men were broad-shouldered and clothed in black. One in more formal clothing while the other looked like armor. The woman had golden hair tied back in a braid that had started to come apart. With a start, I realized that she was not wearing a dress, but instead had on a billowy pair of pants, highly uncommon for current styles. It appeared this woman didn’t care what others thought of her.

“Rhys! Az! Mor!” a familiar voice shouted behind me, Cassian’s. _Holy gods…_ _General Rhysand Knight. Captain Azriel Knight. The famed healer, Morrigan Solis._

“We weren’t expecting you for another two days!” Cassian continued while I had a minor aneurysm about who just came to our camp. Adam and I continued to slowly edge away, our curiosity piqued.

“We rode like hell _just_ because we missed your face so much,” the black-haired one, Rhysand, if the stories were right, teased. _So casual for those who lead the army._

“Awww, you flatter me,” the brothers clapped arms and Cas embraced Morrigan. “I believe you promised me a sparring match,” Rhysand said, looking around for someone. He spotted Adam and I, giving us a small nod of acknowledgment. Against my will, I blushed and ducked my head, hoping that the general took it as a sign of respect from a nervous recruit being recognized by a higher-up and _not_ of a young lady getting attention from a handsome soldier. Because he was handsome. And dangerous. No one else in the camp seemed to have noticed that not everything was what it seemed but certainly the general, or his _fucking_ spymaster, would take notice.

I fully turned away at this point, making haste back to our training area. Adam shot me a confused look but followed without question.

“Archeron! Haywood!” _Shit shit shit shit_. We turned, snapping to attention at the command in Cassian’s voice. As the group neared, I tried to keep my eyes from the general, but they were determined to betray me. The closer he got, I was able to pick out more of his features, each more attractive than the last. High cheekbones and full lips that were a gift from the Cauldron. Deep, blue eyes that bordered on violet assessed us, them lingering on me for longer. _Fuuuuuck._

“General Knight is in the sparring mood, what are the chances that your lieutenant would oblige him?”

Fear made me a fool, causing me to blurt out, “Low, sir, if he hasn’t eaten recently.” _I’m so fucked._

Cassian barked out a loud laugh, followed by Rhysand and cackling from Morrigan. Azriel only cracked a small smile, but rumor had it that very few could accomplish even that. Lucky me.

Rhysand was the one to respond to me, “Perfect, lead the way soldier.” He gestured to go on. _Gods, even his voice is beautiful, smooth and deep._

 _GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER,_ I mentally yelled at myself. I was here to fight in a war, **not** faun over handsome generals.

I turned on my heel, cursing my big mouth and small brain. I prayed to the gods that this would be the first, and last, interaction with them.

The walk to the training area was mercifully short, where Tamlin had paired off the recruits for hand-to-hand drills. And true to my prediction, he looked grumpier than ever, his frown turning to a downright scowl at the sights of our group.

“Soldiers, salute!” Tamlin called out, all of the men stopping to turn to the general.

“At ease,” Rhysand said, him zeroing in on Tamlin. Something like amusement flickered in his face, quickly wiped away the calm mask of a general. “Lieutenant Verdant, how goes training?”

Tamlin had schooled his face into a careful expression of neutrality, “Good, General Knight.” No extra words, no hint of deference. Had I known any better, I would say that Tamlin bordered on insubordination.

Rhysand scanned the crowd, nodding to himself. “I saw that you were working on hand-to-hand combat, how about we give your soldiers a little demonstration.”

Tamlin hesitated, something we had _never_ seen from him. General Knight was the leader of this army, but Tamlin trained on a daily basis. The other soldiers tried not to look too interested in his reaction, most probably silently hoping to see their torturer suffer a little. “We’re almost done for the day…” he trailed off. An outright lie, I knew we had at least another two hours of training. When he saw the combined look of Cassian and Rhysand, he yielded.

Without instruction, me and the other recruits cleared out, allowing for a wide ring to take shape. I ended up facing away from Rhysand where he turned to say a few words to the others, causing them to stifle laughs. A few moments later, he walked into the ring.

_Without a shirt on._

I forced my eyes forward, demanding that this time they not wander over the curves and lines of muscles that were practically an artwork.

I was close enough to Tamlin to hear him mutter, “I’ll spar with you, pretty boy, and I’ll do it with my shirt _on_.”

I bit my lip to stop the laugh that threatened to bubble out of me. I didn’t feel up to the extra miles Tamlin would make me run if he heard me.

He strode into the ring, taking up a defensive stance.

“My money’s on the general,” Alex whispered in my ear. I had been so distracted by the general, that I hadn’t even noticed him standing beside me. I only shot a warning glace Alex’s way, but he had already turned back to the two men now circling each other.

For the past week, we had seen, and experienced, Tamlin’s moves. Despite being a swaggering prick, he clearly had the skills for the rank he earned.

The two men continued to circle each other, each moving with their own fluidity. Rhysand angled his head, beckoning for Tamlin to make the first move. He obliged, exploding forward with a swiftness that we had yet to see.

Too fast for our untrained eyes to follow, a flurry of moves occurred before the men jumped back again.

Cassian let out a howl of laugher, “Are you a bit rusty, Tamlin? Don’t tell me the recruits have dulled down your edges.” Tamlin clenched his jaw, wincing with the movement. It seemed that Rhysand had managed to land some blows.

Rhysand’s back was to me, I was unable to see his response, but his body remained fluid and relaxed, almost as if he was teasing Tamlin.

This time, I knew what speed to expect the attacks and was able to follow along better this time. Rhysand took the offense this time, leaping forward with a sweep of the leg. Tamlin saw the move as it came for him, causing him to shift back to avoid the leg. Rhysand, however, expected this of him and used the momentum to punch his opposite arm forward to where Tamlin now exposed his shoulder. The impact of flesh on flesh was clear, followed by a solid _oof_ from Tamlin. He didn’t let the blow stop him, instead, taking it in stride and countering with an elbow of his own.

Back and forth, the two traded blows. The soldiers on the sidelines slowly started reacting to the fight. Cheers and exclamations rang out in the clearing, garnering interest from other soldiers who were passing by. Soon, the ring was six rows deep of men shouting bets and suggestions. Loudest of all was Cassian, egging on the two.

Sweat poured off the fighters, throwing off refractions of lights from their twisting bodies. I was completely enamored with how they moved, trying, and failing, to focus more on the moves than the muscles.

Almost ten minutes later, the fight ended with Rhysand getting past Tamlin’s blocks to throw him to the ground and trap him with a knee to the back.

Cheers exploded through the crowd.

We knew that training would be even more hellish as Tamlin nursed his wounded ego for the next several days, but it was so, so worth it to see him with his face in the dirt.

Rhysand only pinned Tamlin for a second before removing his knee, offering him a hand up. The lieutenant looked more inclined to spit on it instead, but took it nonetheless, letting it go as soon as possible.

I stiffened as Rhys started to walk towards me, causing me to shift my face down and away from his violet gaze, now bright with adrenaline. Morrigan’s voice rang out behind me, revealing his cause to come in my direction. The crowd parted to let the victorious general through, some going as far to clap him on the back or shout their congratulations.

His body passed close enough to mine that the tang of sweat and his heat filled the air. A glance out of the corner of my eye was all that I allowed myself, only to find that his own gaze briefly settled on me before he moved on.

This time, I couldn’t even fool myself that the red on my face was from anything but flustered attraction. I knew that I would need to avoid the general like the plague while he was in the camp.

Alex had turned to me by this time, chattering and exclaiming at the moves Rhysand had used. I nodded along the best I could, barely offering my own words on the matter, my mind was still far too distracted by the victor.

Once the general and his group were far out of earshot, Tamlin barked, “Pair up, we’re running drills ‘til sunset.” With the ire radiating off out him, none of us dared groaned at his order, knowing that it would earn us a one-way ticket to the ground, courtesy of the lieutenant himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I was struggling to write this even though our boy Rhys finally shows up so I made it longer than my usual in case I don’t post for a while. I'm not really happy with it but oh well. I'm hoping that getting this chapter out will allow the next to flow


	11. Rhysand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can pry bisexual Rhys from my cold, dead hands.

I had forgotten out _good_ it was to spar with Tamlin. By nature, I was not normally a petty man, but Tamlin practically begged to be put in his place with his horrible attitude. We had joined the army at about the same age and were even friends once. But once we started to rise through the ranks and win glory on the battlefield, he had changed for the worst. He became a man that took and took and took, causing his military career to stall at lieutenant while I continued to rise.

Therefore, anytime I was in his vicinity, I always took the time to remind him why we were where we were today.

Cas had no qualms watching me pummel him. Mor was only against it because if he needed healing afterward, that meant that he would have to spend time in her tent. Az had yet to say anything on the matter. Amren, well… Amren never said no to a little bit of bloodletting.

Even with three days of hard riding, I flew into camp with energy to spare, it practically whining to be used and let out.

It _was_ good to see Cassian’s face again, even though I told him with a teasing tone. It had been a few weeks since I had seen him, but that was at the front, where it was purely for battle planning. Seeing him far from the front, where there wouldn’t be a bloody interruption to our conversations, was a minor blessing.

He looked well, and happy. Or as happy as anyone could be training recruits for the slaughter of the battlefield. It was always a harsh, but necessary, reminder of the weeks ahead. I had told Mor and Az of my suspicion that the end of the war was coming, one way or another. They both absorbed my prediction with quiet, not even thinking to question me. We had all been together so long that they knew how accurate I could be. In lighter times, Mor joked that I should run away from the army and join up with a traveling circus as their oracle.

I would tell Cas later of my suspicion, but first, it was time to kick Tamlin’s ass to the dirt.

I scanned the camp, nodding to two soldiers that lingered on the edge of the main road through it, no doubt wanting to see the general of the army. One was taller with fair skin and hair, the other was on the shorter side, brown hair with streaks of gold was escaping from the bun at the nape of his neck. Both looked to not even be 20 yet, explaining their round features. The shorter one averted his gaze at my nod, causing the corner of my mouth to quirk up. They were probably not used to being acknowledged, more used to being yelled at.

Cassian had called out to two of the recruits, pausing their retreat. As we neared, I could pick out their features more. The shorter one drew my interest. He had blue eyes that looked almost gray in the light with full lips.

Pretty, for a boy.

“General Knight is in the sparring mood, what are the chances that your lieutenant would oblige him?”

“Low, sir, if he hasn’t eaten recently,” the shorter one replied. Pretty with a sense of humor, it seemed. I burst out laughing, something I could rarely do these days. Mor outright cackled at the comment and a glance at Az revealed he had a small smile on his face. I wondered if the soldier knew how rare that smile was and what they had accomplished.

“Perfect, lead the way soldier,” I cursed myself for not knowing their name, but Cas hadn’t specified which was Archeron and which was Haywood. _Later, I would have to find out their name later._ Instead, I spent the walk quickly catching up with Cas on any updates in training.

A minute or so later, we arrived at where Tamlin was running drills with his recruits. Hand-to-hand, a perfect excuse for me to ask for a sparring match. After convincing him, I turned to Mor. “Hold my jacket and shirt for me, will you? Don’t want to get it dirty.” She rolled her eyes while stifling a laugh.

“Try not to show off too much, we don’t need any lovesick recruits stalking you around the camp. _Again._ ” 

“No promises, cousin.” Sure, it was true that I didn’t want to get my general’s jacket and shirt dirty, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to show off a bit. I had to take my chances while I could to feed my ego.

It took all my willpower to not glance at the soldier from before as I walked into the ring, making sure I wanted them to have a good view of the fight. Tamlin entered a second later and we both dropped into defensive stances.

 _Same ‘ol Tamlin,_ I noted he moved the exact same way as always, leaving a tiny window open on his right side. _He just never learns._

A cock of my head had Tamlin leaping forward, his classic left punch coming for my face. _Ah ah ah,_ I easily blocked and twisted under his blow, countering with my own right hook to his ribs.

Tamlin took the blow and stepped forward with a kick, but as always, his kicks left his face unguarded. Usually on the battlefield, he was too quick for anyone to notice, but years of training let me see each and every weakness. Catching his leg, I used it to spin myself inwards, slamming my elbow into his stomach before snapping it up into his jaw. That move alone would have downed a lesser man. Tamlin just staggered back, ending the swift first round.

Cas called out his jeer, causing Tamlin’s eyes to only unfocus more, becoming almost feral.

This time, I sprung forward first, moving through punches and kicks and blocks like it was easy as breathing. I could have ended the round sooner but where would be the fun in that? Ten minutes seemed a fair amount of time to thoroughly humiliate Tamlin and put on a show for the soldiers. Knowing his teaching tactics, they probably needed the break and morale boost from seeing me kick his ass.

By the end of the fight, a crowd had gathered, shouts nearly drowning out our pants as I finally put Tamlin to the ground and pinned him with a knee.

Because I still needed to play the part of general, I offered him a hand up, which he took and released as soon as he was up.

I turned to where Mor was, spotting the soldier from before. I briefly pinned him with my gaze, holding his stare until he shifted away, his blush deepening. _Interesting._

I moved past the soldier, allowing myself one more glance before retrieving my jacket and shirt from Mor.

“Thank you for not pummeling him too much, now I don’t have to watch him sulk in the healers’ tent,” she said as we started to walk away.

“I live to serve, cousin,” giving her a mocking bow that earned another eye roll. Cassian came up behind me, “Good fight! Although I could have done with a little more blood, it’s a good thing Amren wasn’t here or she’d be chewing you out for Tamlin being able to walk away.”

I shook my head at Cas. He was right about Amren not being here, for a lady of Velaris, she was surprisingly bloodthirsty.

Steeling myself for my question, I tried to force a casual tone. “Who were those soldiers from before?” Keeping my face carefully light and my gaze steady ahead.

Thankfully, Cassian was still too focused on the fight to ascertain my motive. “Flynn Archeron was the shorter one and Adam Haywood was the other. They’re both on my archery squad.”

 _Perfect opportunity,_ “How’s that going? Are they all getting into shape?” Cas loved to talk about his special projects, and this was an easy way to learn more about _Flynn_.

After all, I was a general of the army and I needed to keep an eye on all important future plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all, typing with fake nails on is HARD  
> Thank you so much for all the kind comments! I really appreciate the love and support even when I feel like my writing is lacking. I have no plans to abandon this fic, so no worries. Just sometimes there might be a week or two between updates :)


	12. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back? Back again.  
> Hey guys! Sorry for the long time between chapters but I was unmotivated for a bit and then my cat got sick. She is doing a lot better now and I had the energy to write!  
> Enjoy!

“Blood, I smell blood.”

Alex’s words had me freezing in place on my bedroll. I had been up half the night with horrible cramps, biting my lip to hide my whimpers of pain.

I had completely forgotten that I was still a woman underneath these clothes, lulled into a false sense of security. I had completely forgotten that women bleed once a month.

I needed to answer Alex. _Come on, Feyre, think._

I let myself release a small groan, “I think I bit my lip when Tamlin landed that hit yesterday.” A believable lie. It was three days after Tamlin had been beaten to the ground by the general and he still had yet to work off his silent temper tantrum. Recruit after recruit had to face him in one-on-one sparring sessions. And recruit after recruit went down beneath his fists. Nothing so bad as to warrant a trip to the healers but enough that we were all sporting bruises and scrapes.

“You need to go see the healer, that could get infected.”

 _Double shit._ “Ah, no, I’m sure it’ll be fine, it’s just a bitten lip, I doubt they could do anything.”

“Hmmmm,” _come on, don’t press._ “I don’t know, Flynn, you could have hit your head too. And it smells like a lot of blood.” It was still too early in the morning for there to be any light in the tent. If there was, he would see that there was no blood coming from my mouth. With my luck, I probably bled through my clothes and onto the bedroll. _Fuck._

“Ok, ok, fine, I’ll go see the healers,” I acquiesced, maybe I could sneak off somewhere to clean up and find linen to line my underwear.

“I’ll come with you, don’t want you to fall over dead on me,” Alex joked. His barely visible shape started to rustle around, pulling on a shirt and boots.

“Un, no don’t worry about me, you’ll be late for training,” I tried to keep the panic out of my voice.

“Nah, I’ll run back. Why do you think Tamlin is whipping us into shape if not to be on time everywhere?”

Once Alex has set his mind to something, I learned that there was little to make him stray. If he was determined to escort me to the healer’s tent, he would do it. Might as well do so before it’s light enough out to see that there is blood coming from a significantly lower place.

Standing up, stifling a groan, I pulled on my boots and edged out of the tent, trying to keep my backside away from him in case he was good at seeing in the dark.

The distant dawn was only a tiny smudge of gray light on the horizon. Torches from the night had burned low and were nearly extinguished. Only the light from the setting moon outlined the path between the tents.

Alex slipped out of the tent, attempting to scan me in the dark for my ‘injury’. I ducked my head and put a hand to my lip, as though I was feeling out the wound. “Let’s go,” I whispered, “Maybe the healers can look me over and we’ll both make training on time.”

We set off to the center of camp, where the healers’ tents were near commands.

Like the men in the surrounding area, these healers were women recruited from across Prythian. Young and old, blood relatives or friends or strangers, the women were trained in the arts of the body, most of their knowledge passed down through the bloodline. They were one of the biggest assets to the army, and some claim the only thing that keeps hope alive when the outlook was grim and the bodies were piled up.

None of us had needed a trip to their tents yet, most of us opting to tough it out rather than attract Tamlin’s rage for weakness.

Their main tent was easily marked with white flags emblazoned with a red cross. Even in the early hour, a warm glow emitted from the tent, lighting our path towards it. I kept my body angled away from Alex in case he caught a glance of the blood that may or may not be there. I allowed him to push in first before following.

Inside, five beds lined each wall, most of them empty save for the first one on the right. The man who laid there slept on, undisturbed by the two recruits. His leg was in a thick cast, most likely an officer who took a tumble off of a horse. Otherwise, there weren’t too many injuries in the camp that warranted a stay with the healers.

“Hello?” Alex whisper called, mindful of the sleeping man.

From a curtained off room in the back, a golden-haired woman appeared. Even with the ungodly hour, she greeted us with a bright smile.

“Hi, I’m Mor,” she whispered back in a warm voice, “Who’s injured?” Her amber eyes swept over the two of us, searching for any obvious wounds.

Alex stepped to the side, gesturing to me. “He bit his lip after taking a punch from Lieutenant Verdant, possibly hit his head too. I smelled a lot of blood this morning.” Alex turned towards me. With the amount of light in the tent, he could now see that I wasn’t the bloody mess he thought I was in the tent. His brow furrowed, gaze focusing on my mouth.

I ducked my head again, “I’ll be fine here, Alex. Go on back without me.” _Please don’t stay, please don’t question the lack of blood._

I could feel him hesitating when the healer stepped forward. “He’ll be safe with me, you’re a good friend Alex but I know Tamlin and you don’t want to be late to morning training.” I almost breathed a sigh of relief but held it in, waiting for his response.

After another beat of silence, “Ok, I’ll see you at training, Flynn,” and he ducked out of the tent again. I watched the flap swing back into place, my mind racing on how I’ll get out of this situation.

I opened my mouth to spout off a lie when a gentle hand rested on my shoulder, “Let’s go into the private exam room in the back,” Mor’s voice was gentle and reassuring, making me was the relax into it.

Her hand guided me down the aisle of cots and into the curtained off room. With the piled high crates of supplies and herbs drying everywhere, I would hardly call it an exam room, but it was private and cozy.

She pointed to a stool before turning her back to examine the herbs laying on the worktable. I fidgeted on the stool, trying to ignore the twinges of pain that struck low in my belly.

“So, you took a punch from Tamlin, I’m surprised you’re still standing,” her voice was mixed with humor and something a bit darker. Maybe her association with Cassian meant she also shared his disdain for the lieutenant. Mor turned back to me and lightly placed her fingers on my jaw, feeling for swelling.

“Ahhh,” I rubbed the back of my neck, trying not to meet her eyes, “It wasn’t too bad of a punch, not nearly as bad as it could have been.”

“Have you had a headache? Blurred vision? Felt dizzy?” she continued her examination, turning my head every which way.

“Ummmm,” unsure of how to answer, the pain in my stomach migrating to my back creating a tight cramp.

Mor stopped her hand and forced me to meet her eyes. I held the eye contact best I could without betraying myself.

She pulled back and hummed, turning to the worktable again.

I stood up, hoping to make an escape before she could guess anything close to the truth. “Thank you for seeing me, but I swear I’m fine.” I winced at the cramp that lashed through my body, slowly making my way to the edge of the curtained off area.

“Why are you here, Flynn?” came her soft question. I froze, unsure of what she meant. Mor turned to me, those amber eyes questioning but open. Understanding. No hostility to be found.

“I wanted to save my father,” my answer surprised me. It was the truth, but I hadn’t intended on saying it.

She absorbed my response before nodding and turning back to her herbs. Her next question turned my blood cold, but there was no accusation in her words. “How many people here know that you are a woman?”


	13. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhhh I don't have much to say today except that I love you all very dearly? Yeah, that sounds good

All color drained from my face and my heart picked up into a gallop. “Please, _please_ , don’t tell anyone. I’ll be killed if they find out—,”

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise,” her words were strong and unwavering, a minor balm to the fear cutting my mind to ribbons.

I was completely frozen, caught between fleeing and getting on my knees and begging. “No one knows,” I breathed, needing to hear the words and recognize that they’re still true. No one but now Mor knew the truth.

“I will keep you secret,” she promised again, sensing that I needed the affirmation. She finished with the herbs she was chopping, pouring steaming water from the nearby kettle over them. “Sit.”

With no choice but to obey the woman that held my life in her hands, I took up my seat on the stool again and accepted the warm cup. Wafts of ginger-spiced steam kissed my face, the scent alone releasing some of the tension in my lower back.

“Drink.”

I sipped at the scalding liquid as she continued to work at the table, now ripping cloth. Each sip eased the pain that had wracked my body for the past several hours. My eyes darted between the healer and the curtain opening, contemplating all my options.

“If I’m not wrong, which I rarely am,” she said with a small laugh, “It’s your time of the month. Is the tea helping?”

I paused before answering. It had been so long since I openly discussed my gender, I was so used to acting and talking like a man. “Yes, thank you,” and then, “How did you know?”

“Well, unlike the rest of these boneheads, I can spot a member of my own gender,” her casual language drew a startled chuckle out of me, “ _And_ the blood spotting the back of your pants is pretty indictive.”

“ _Shit_ ,” I hopped off the stool, twisting to see how big the stain was. “Do you think Alex saw?”

“He didn’t.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and sat down again; the cramps were yet to be completely gone. “How am I going to show up to training?” I muttered mostly to myself. I tapped my fingers on the side of the cup, dropping further into my thoughts and worries. Tamlin would notice immediately if I wasn’t there. Would probably come to the healer’s tent to drag me into the sparring ring and _then_ I would be in even more deep shit.

“You’ll keep with the lie of a bitten lip and add in there that you did indeed hit your head. I’ll inform Cassian who will delight in teaching Tamlin a lesson about being too hard on the recruits. You’ll make his day, I promise,” she turned back to me with a handful of linen strips, extending them to me. “Use these to line your underwear and I’ll find you a spare pair of pants so I can wash the blood out of those. Today, you’ll help me around the tent under the guise that I want to keep an eye on you and you'll return to training tomorrow. That’s an order from the head healer and I would absolutely _love_ to see anyone try to say otherwise.” A dangerous glint had entered her eyes. Like a bolt of lightning, it struck me that this was a woman knew how to piece bones back together, but also knew how to break them apart. Through some experience in the past or maybe training from her friends, she had learned to hurt as well as heal.

“Ok, thank you,” I said quietly, taking the strips from her. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “Why are you helping me?”

“You said you wanted to save your father, who am I to get in the way of that?” she said with a shrug, “Besides, war gets so dull without a bit of entertainment.” Even though her words were light, an undercurrent ran beneath them. Mor had been a part of this war for as long as it has raged. She had treated countless men that had died beneath her hands.

I only nodded in response, draining the last of the tea. I was about to set it down when she refilled the cup with ease, leaving no room for argument. Not that I was about to argue anyways, that tea was the only thing keeping my cramps at bay.

It was then I heard a rustling at the head of the tent. Another soldier who needed to see a healer before the day started.

Before Mor could go to greet them, a head of black hair popped up.

_The General._

“Good morning, Mor. I was wondering…” he trailed off as he beheld me sitting with the healer. His brow furrowed as his violet gaze swept over me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He made to go and something stupid in me wanted to say _anything_ to make him stay.

“Tamlin decided to get a little rough with the recruits during sparring. You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, cousin?” she lied and questioned easily, not even bothering to turn away from her work.

“Ah,” Rhysand now fully stepped into the workspace, ducking his head and scratching the back of his neck in a _very_ un-general-like fashion. He met my gaze, “I’m sorry about that, he doesn’t have the best anger management.”

“It’s fine,” I muttered, turning my head so I wouldn’t have to meet those unnerving eyes.

“And _you_ don’t have the sense not to rile him up,” Mor tossed over her shoulder, continuing her work.

Rhysand winced again, giving me another apologetic glance. “You’re Flynn Archeron, right? One of Cassian’s archers? He didn’t hurt you too badly?” his eyes earnest.

“No, no,” I said still unable to look at him. “Just a bitten lip and I hit my head on the ground. Mor gave me some tea for the pain and wants to keep an eye on me today so I’m helping her with some tasks around the tent.” I held up the linen strips as proof, as though I was the one who ripped them. “But, yeah, I’m fine,” I finished lamely, cursing myself. _He knows my name_ , a ridiculous afterthought floated through my consciousness.

“Good, good,” at least the general seemed to be struggling with words too, most likely from his embarrassment over his actions causing someone else’s (nonexistent) pain. “Have you gotten a chance to eat yet?”

Mor answered for me, “No we haven’t, can you bring us breakfast?” I nearly choked on my tea. I was a mere recruit, the _general of the fucking army_ shouldn’t have to bring me breakfast, especially when it really wasn’t his fault for my pain.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, and he disappeared behind the curtain and left the tent.

Mor turned to me, her face a mixture between amused and mischievous, but it was soon cleared away and I thought I imagined it. She rustled around in a cloth bag, procuring a pair of pants. “Quick, put these on and line them with a few of the strips. I’ll go check on my other patient while you change,” and with a wink, she was gone.

The pants were close enough in color to mine so that Rhysand wouldn’t wonder at the sudden change in my appearance. I took off my own, seeing that there was indeed blood starting to spot the back of the and my underwear was becoming as bloody as a warzone. _Men are so lucky they don’t have to deal with this._

I wadded the clothes up and tucked them away until Mor could wash them. I didn’t want Rhysand catching a glimpse of them and wondering why the hell a soldier with a bloody lip and headache was bleeding through their pants.

Mor returned a few minutes later, giving me ample time to line the borrowed pants and settle back onto my stool and sip at the soothing tea. The fresh pants and linen strips gave me a small bit of comfort after the stressful start to my day.

Another round of rustling announced that Rhysand had returned, this time with three steaming bowls of porridge and a small loaf of bread. He set one on the desk beside Mor and handed the other to me along with a spoon.

I murmured my thanks and wedged my cup of tea between my legs, digging into the porridge. Apparently, being the general of the army meant he had access to what few spices were rationed in the kitchen because it was the most flavorful food I’d eaten in weeks. I bit my cheek to prevent a small moan from escaping my mouth.

“Archeron.” I snapped my head up at my name, looking at the general.

“Yes, sir?” a smile quirked at the edge of his mouth.

“What brings you to the army?” the question was quiet and easy, just a man trying to start a conversation.

“Well, I guess your summons, sir. My father fought in the last war and is now too injured and old to fight in this one. I took his place.”

Rhysand nodded, taking another bite of his food, “Any siblings?”

“I have two older sisters,” my heart twisted. As much as we fought, I still missed them every day.

“How old are you then?”

 _He’s asking so many questions._ I shifted in my seat, slightly uncomfortable by the attention I was getting from the handsome man. More than that, I was worried the more he looked at me, the closer he would become to realizing that I was a woman who didn’t belong here. “Nineteen, sir.”

Mor then shot a quick glance over to Rhysand and a current passed between them. It was over so fast I was unable to read what had happened.

“Well, I need to start my day. It was good to chat with you, Flynn,” another half-smile graced his lips, making him look younger and not at all like the head of the army. “I’ll see you later, Mor.” And with that, the general made his exit, taking the rest of my sanity with him.

I tried and failed to lift the spoon to my mouth, to try and remember who I was and what I was doing. Mor fully turned around now and gave me a sweeping assessment, not doubt noticing where my distraction and blush came from. She arched an eyebrow at me, her face saying it all.

“What?” I managed to ask, trying to keep my voice even.

“You like him.”

I was then glad that I didn’t have any food in my mouth because I would have spit it all over the healer and _that_ wouldn’t have encouraged her to keep my secret.

“I do not.”

She then raised both eyebrows at me. “Bullshit.”

“I don’t even know him,” I said hastily.

“I am well aware that my cousin in an attractive," _shudder_ , “man, and many soldiers before have noticed that.” It was my turn for my brows to shoot up. I had heard about those who were attracted to the same sex as them and had even known one in my village before he moved to a bigger town. I guess I was just shocked that there were those in this army who didn’t hide it as some did.

“Then it looks like I’m out of luck,” I said carefully, hoping that this would be the end of a very embarrassing conversation.

“Mmmmmm, I wouldn’t say that,” Mor lilted, the same mischief from before creeping into her face.

I just gave her a confused look and forced a spoonful of porridge into my mouth.

She sighed and muttered something about idiots. She tried again, “Rhysand is attracted to both men _and_ women. He doesn’t hide it, but he also doesn’t go telling everyone,” giving me another meaningful look.

I swallowed hard at her words, the porridge nearly sticking to my throat before sliding down. “You know he can’t know about me,” I whispered, wondering if the healer had a cruel side by giving me this information. It was bad enough that one person knew my secret. It would be even worse if the general found out after getting too close to me. He didn’t seem like a spiteful man, but rules were rules in the army. No women allowed on the pain of death. On top of that, it would be seen as an act of treason and my family would suffer.

“I know,” her words were soft and tinged with an apology.

I shook my head, whether to clear it of what was at stake or the man who could order my death, I didn’t know. “What do you need help with today?” I said, hoping to bridge the small gap that had formed between us.

Mor gave me a small smile and began to instruct me on what she needed help with.


	14. The Ancestors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bringing back the An-sass-tors and then we're gonna have a bit of fun

“The captains know.”

“Oh, they _absolutely_ know.”

“The healer now does, too.”

“Why hasn’t she been executed yet?”

“I _may_ have interfered…”

“YOU WHAT,” one screeched, rounding on the meddler.

“Prythian cannot win the war without her, I have seen it in the eddies of fate.”

“I call complete and utter _bullshit_.”

“I have seen it,” they affirmed, not willing to be cowed by someone who had been born centuries after them.

“What did you see?” one asked in a quiet tone, trying to placate the other.

“Only flashes,” they admitted. “Battles and death and pain and suffering. War has not changed in the hundreds of years I have been around.”

A murmur went around the group. Many were there because they fell in battle defending those they loved. The senseless blood that was spilled for faraway rulers was a stain that never faded, only dimmed with time.

“But,” they said, a hint of hope and awe entering their voice, “She could be the one who will usher in a new century of peace.”

“If she doesn’t fuck it up,” the bitter one muttered, earning a cuff on the ear from another.

“ _How_ did you interfere?”

“A tug here and a pull there…” they answered mysteriously, gazing down at the woman below.

A collective sigh rushed through the spirits with several exasperated glances exchanged. It seemed that the eldest among them had yet to lose their flair for the dramatic.

Pressing forward, another asked, “Do you think the captains will report her to the general?”

“No,” they said firmly, “The loud one appreciates a good soldier when he sees one and does not want to put their plan at risk. The quiet one understands that everyone has their secrets for their own reasons. As long as she shows no ill-will towards the army and its fight, he will stay quiet. Although both are loyal to the general, they know it is not their place to oust her.”

The relief was near palpable. Though many there had not wanted her to succeed at first, they understood the weight that now rested on her young shoulders.

“And,” a hint of humor entering their voice, “The captains and healer are always excited to cause a bit of good-natured grief on their general.”

A laugh echoed around them. It _would_ be great fun to watch the general fumble his way around the man-who-was-a-woman as he tried to catch her heart.

The mood quickly turned somber again as they regarded the far-off smudge of black on the horizon. It was invisible to those in the physical world but as clear as daylight in the spiritual.

“Hybern grows in power.”

“It is almost unnatural.”

“One way or another, the end is fast approaching.”

More mutters rippled through the crowd. They could only barely sense the darkness’s slow creep forward but not what lay beyond it. The veil of black was impenetrable but evil leaked from it. Many discussions of what it could be had come and gone with still no further answers. They didn’t know if it was the corrupted spirits of fallen Hybern soldiers or the energy its army gave off or something completely…

_Other._


	15. Rhysand

Meetings in Velaris have kept me away until now but no longer. Four days of puffed up nobles; all simpering men and women who had no taste for war but were necessary all the same to keep the army fed, clothed, and healthy. For my men, I would endure the four days of endless posturing and small talk.

But no longer.

Cas’s commands saturated the air, giving direction to his recruits on the shooting range. Each step towards the group reverberated up my body, feeding a recklessness that was growing with every day. If I wasn’t concentrating, his name would be whispered in my mind with each step.

_Flynn._

_Flynn._

_Flynn._

The archer that had caught my eye.

The soldier that I couldn’t seem to get out of my head.

The recruit that I would inevitably send to go die for his country.

That last thought was the one that kept me at a distance, but today I gave in.

A cool breeze slid across my cheek, the only sign that summer was coming to an end and the leaves would soon change their colors. Too soon after, winter would follow. A dangerous time for an army. The cold could kill as brutally as any sword. I needed to end this war soon or more lives would be lost.

I told myself that a visit to Cassian’s archers was in the best interest of the army, not just for myself.

The commands solidified into a person. Cassian had opted for a simple combination of tunic and pants, his rank only shown by how he held himself. He walked up and down behind the line of archers, occasionally pausing at a shoulder to give a correction or word of encouragement.

_Thunk. Thunk. Thunk._

Arrow after arrow flew from fingertips, most finding their mark at the inner rings of the target, only a few straying to the outer edges. Very promising for the future.

“Halt,” Cas bellowed. The men lowered their bows, their quivers now emptied. They started the long walk down the range to retrieve their arrows, some grouping up to tease each other on their aim or compare techniques. After two and a half weeks, they had all formed strong bonds that eased the strain of upcoming battles.

My focus was drawn to one golden-brown head, walking beside a fair-headed one. I allowed myself to take in Flynn’s even gait. Not swaggering like Tamlin’s and Cas’s or grounded like Mor’s and Azriel’s. It was graceful, like he was moving to a song that only he could hear.

A small cough drew my attention away from the receding figure. Cassian gave me _a look_. “Careful of that one, General. I don’t need my best recruit distracted.”

“Flynn is your best?” I blurted out, surprised. It was rare to get recruits that already came trained. At best, some were hunters in their village and some trained with skills passed down from fathers.

Cas only nodded downrange, drawing my attention to where Flynn was pulling out arrows. Out of the six chosen archers, his was the most tightly grouped, even with the sporadic wind gusts today. A small kernel of pride kindled in my chest, flaring a little too bright for my comfort.

That pride must have shown on my face because Cassian snorted at me and I knew to brace myself. “You look like a love-sick puppy.” Not as harsh as it could have been, but he was only warming up.

I decided not to answer, instead asking how their progress was coming. “Better than expected. While Archeron is the best, the others are not too far behind. I think we might just be able to pull this off.”

“We leave in three days,” I said quietly. Cassian nodded again.

“They’re three weeks of training is almost up, let’s just hope it’s enough.”

The archers had nearly returned by now, taking up their positions to begin again. Flynn had turned from his companion and spotted me before averting his gaze swiftly. Maybe it was the overhead sun, but I thought I saw his ears turn a little redder.

“By your mark,” Cassian gave the command. Arrows began to fly once more. I walked to one end of the line, observing each archer as I went, giving words of praise. Cassian spoke true about their skills; each one had a slightly different shooting style, but all were accurate.

Inch by inch I drew closer to the end of the line, where _he_ was. Blue eyes were steadfastly focused on the faraway target. Slim arms hid lean muscles as the recruit pulled the bowstring back again and again, aiming their arrow and then loosing it with controlled precision. One glance down the range revealed that Flynn was just as accurate, maybe even more so than the last round.

I allowed myself to pause just behind his shoulder. The spacing between the archers was just enough that I could talk with each one privately in a low voice.

“You have a good aim, Archeron,” watching his fingers reach for another arrow.

A small battle waged war on his face as he carefully said, “Just good, General?” bold words for a soldier to his commanding officer but a risk he took, nonetheless.

“Can you prove it?” the question escaped my mouth before I had the chance to stop them. Cassian was right that I shouldn’t become a distraction to his archers, but it was too damn tempting to tease Flynn.

The recruit arched an eyebrow, flashing that intense gaze my way before nocking their arrow. “Pick a target, General.” The words still carefully respectful but now with a hint of my teasing reflected back at me.

I hummed, pretending to think hard about what I wanted to see him hit. “What about… the target leg.” The slim wood of the stand would be a tricky shot.

“Very well,” he said, taking aim.   
“Not yours,” I said mildly, pivoting slightly to look further to the right. “The target leg at the other end.” I expected maybe shock or worry to flash on Flynn’s face, but the soldier merely pivoted his body, briefly checking his aim before letting the arrow fly.

In the span of a blink, the arrow flew across the range, bypassing all other arrows currently flying before a tiny _thunk_ echoed back to us. Flynn had hit the farthest target leg on the other side of the line, his arrowhead solidly buried in the wood.

The range went quiet. The other archers turning our way, shock plainly written on their faces.

“Archeron!” Cassian’s angry shout rang out. Flynn’s face quickly went from triumphant to scared. He immediately snapped to attention.

“Sir!” any playful expression now wiped away by careful obedience.

“What the hell was that?” Cassian stalked over.

I stepped in Cas’s way, “I was merely asking for a demonstration of your archer’s skills. It appears that you were incorrect in your assessment, Captain.” Cas’s anger shifted from Flynn to me.

“How so?”

“You said Archeron was your best recruit. I’d say he is one of the best archers in the whole army.” I turned to catch the soldier in question eye, nodding my approval.

Flynn snapped into a crisp salute, “Thank you, General.” Even though his face was still the one of respect for his superiors, pride and perhaps something else shone in his eyes.

I turned back to Cassian, trying to stop myself from reading into that look anymore. I was glad that Cas was turned enough away so that the other soldiers couldn’t see the look of knowing he was giving me. I knew I was going to pay for that comment later.

“Please, resume,” I said as casually as I could, forcing myself to not look too long in Flynn’s direction. With a few murmurs of praise for Flynn’s shot, the others turned back to their targets and arrows started to fly again.

For the rest of the time, I stayed back and allowed Cassian to run his range without any more interference. I was just happy to watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Rhys, you love sick puppy


	16. Feyre

_Everywhere I turned there was noise and smoke and blood. The awful sound of steel slicing through flesh was punctuated by the screams of the dying._

_There were writhing shapes all around me, their details lost to the swirling gray._

_“FLYNN,” the shriek came._

_I spun around and around, my sword at the ready. I knew that voice. It had been by my side for the past weeks. Alex was out there calling for me. Screaming that false name._

_“Feyre.” The whisper curled around my ear._

_My head snapped around, looking for the source of my name. A name I had barely dared to even think for fear of discovery._

_“Feyre,” this time it came a bit louder._

_Fear dragged my body down, down, down. “Elain?” I whispered back.  
“Feyre.”_

_“Feyre.”_

_“Feyre.”_

_“FEYRE.”_

_“FEYRE.”_

_My name morphed from the whisper of one to the screams of many. Over and over again. Voices familiar and foreign to me. Some were pleas of desperation; others were hoarse accusations._

_I continued to pivot, the smell of blood shoving its way up my nose and down my throat._

_“Flynn.” This voice was different. It was low and warm and seductive. It was the generals._

_It was a lie._

_I had lied to so many. A lie that saved my father’s life but damned me for eternity. A lie that ensured I will never see my sister’s faces again. A lie that would get me killed if I caved to the promise of pleasure in the general’s voice._

_“Feyre,” the general’s voice came again._

_He knew_

_He knew_

_He knew._

Those words slammed me into wakefulness.

 _He doesn’t know,_ I reassured myself. In the week that Mor found out who I was, no one else had come close to guessing my identity. My new friend had given me herbs that stopped my bleeding as fast as possible and she reassured me that my next cycle would be might lighter and easier to hide.

Cold sweat began to dry on my skin. I forced my breathing to even out. Alex slept on quietly in his bedroll, oblivious to my waking nightmare. He had become a dear friend to me over the past three weeks. If he ever found out that I had lied to him, I didn’t know how he would react.

Predawn light began to filter through the tent walls. Our last day of training. Tomorrow, we would leave for the front.

It was pointless to try to go back to sleep, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to anyways. I continued to focus on my breathing and bring my heart rate back down to a normal level.

_No one knows._

The one reassurance that kept the fear at bay. _If I’m lucky, I’ll be killed quick and then it will all be over,_ the dark thought wormed its way to the front of my mind. I shoved it away. I had made it this far without being discovered, I can make it even longer.

The morning call blasted its way through the camp, waking up recruits and commanders, alike.

Alex groaned, stretching out his muscles. I sat up, reaching blindly for my boots.

“Morning,” he grunted, pulling his boots towards him.

“Morning,” I returned, lacing them up.

We stumbled from the tent, still not used to the ugly hour and made our way to the training area. Despite it being our last day of training, Tamlin made it no less gruesome. That five-mile run was as shitty as ever, but at least today, a cool breeze filled our lungs and the leaves showed the slightest change in color.

Fall had started to creep into the land overnight. It was a welcome change from the humid, summer days.

“Pick up the pace, recruits,” Tamlin yelled over his shoulder. “I would expect better progress after you’ve spent three weeks with me.” Alex and I exchanged a glance. We had improved since we got here but even on our last day, Tamlin refused to soften up. _Hard-ass bastard._

And so it went on and on. The same commands and exercises as we did every day. I don’t know why we expected fanfare on our last day. We were going to war, not coming home from it.

Cassian’s afternoon archery lesson was much of the same too. He, at least, gave a small speech of congratulations, along with a surprise.

“Tonight, you will receive your first round of soldier’s wages. You may either send it home to your family or,” he paused, a light entering his eyes, “You can venture into Velaris to see the City of Starlight before we march to the front tomorrow.”

We all shifted and looked at each other. Training had kept us so exhausted and busy, we hadn’t the chance to visit the city. Most of us didn’t have the money anyway.

“If you decide to explore the city, I will be drinking at Rita’s. Come by and I’ll buy you a drink. You have all earned it.” A few of the soldiers gave a murmured thank you and promise to come. I, on the other hand, knew where exactly to avoid tonight. Where Cassian was, Rhysand would most likely be there and after he visited the range a few days ago, I made the solemn promise to stay the hell away from the general.

“Dismissed.”

Adam and I made the silent trek back to Tamlin’s training area for the final exercises of the day. In the weeks he and I had been training together, Adam had remained a man of few words. Not that it bothered me, sometimes that quiet walk was the only time I could not have to think about my every move.

As we passed by the healer’s tent, a flash of gold made me turn in the direction. Mor’s grin instantly put one on my face. “You go on ahead, I’ll catch up in a minute,” I said to Adam. He only gave me a nod and continued on his way.

“Flynn,” she greeted, stepping out of the shadows of the tent, “Are you going into Velaris tonight?”

“Most likely, I doubt Alex will allow me to stay behind,” a bit of humor tingeing my voice.

“You should come for a drink at Rita’s then! They have the best music in the city,” her shining amber eyes hammered at that iron fist of will inside of me. I opened my mouth, nearly ready to say yes, but I yanked on that lease.

“I’m sorry, Mor,” watching her face fall, “I would love to, but…” I trailed off, not wanting to voice my reason aloud.

Mor raised an eyebrow at me and hummed but didn’t push the subject. “Well, if you change your mind, you’ll know where we’ll be.”

I could only give her a nod and turned away, calling a quick goodbye over my shoulder.

* * *

“Here are your wages, don’t try to spend it all in one place,” Tamlin growled, all but dumping the money into our hands. “ _If_ you are too hungover to march out tomorrow _or_ you decide to spend the night in the city, consider your time in this army over and your days numbered.” His glare meeting each of our eyes.

“Yes, sir!” Our shouts rang out as he dismissed us.

“I’m skipping camp dinner and going to find a restaurant in the city, anyone else with me?” Alex asked, slinging an arm over mine and Elijah’s shoulders, making us stagger underneath his weight.

“I’m in,” Elijah answered immediately.

I shrugged the best I could with the arm restricting my movement, “I’ll join.” The rest of the group agreed to meet in an hour at our normal fire to all walk together into Velaris.

Laughs and jeers rang out before peeling away. Tonight, we would enjoy the last bit of peace afforded to us before marching to our fates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I ended it kinda abruptly but I wanted a whole chapter (or two) about their time in Velaris.


	17. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man oh man am I spoiling y'all with uploads two nights in a row after 4 chapters last week.

Alex’s shoulder knocked against mine in anticipation as we neared the main gate to the city. When I first arrived, I had gotten no more than a glimpse through the throngs of travelers before I took the road to the army camp. Now, the massive city gate loomed, beautiful with its wrought-iron vines and flowers that guarded the citizens within.

After I had managed to sneak away to a small nearby stream for a bath (my first in too long), Alex and I had met the others with coins jangling in our pockets and we began the trek to Velaris.

Even before we entered the city proper, spices from vendors on the side of the road wafted towards us, making more than one stomach growl with hunger. Too many times, one of us was lured to one of those carts in search of those delicious smells, slowing our progress in. At this rate, we wouldn’t be hungry for dinner.

But as we got closer to the entrance, something pulled us in, in, in and we forgot our stomach as the city sprawled before us.

Buildings of every color crammed both sides of the streets, separated by wide avenues. I could see hints of green between them, a clue that there were gardens behind each one or perhaps they backed up to public parks. Cafés and restaurants were periodically spaced with shops and boutiques, their tables spilling out onto the sidewalks to offer their patrons the option to dine beneath the darkening sky. The main street we were on sloped gently down so that Velaris laid beneath our feet. A golden dome across a river reflected the last of the sun’s rays.

Off to the right, a cluster of buildings emitted a rainbow of colors of their own. _Go, go there_ , a voice whispered in my ear and pulled in my chest. I knew in my heart that there laid the famed artist quarter of the city, aptly nicknamed The Rainbow. A twinge of sadness penetrated my wonder at the city. I knew that my friends would not want to go there tonight, preferring to stay in the dining and drinking part of the city. Perhaps I would sneak away for a few minutes if we got close enough so they wouldn’t miss me.

The streets were packed with citizens and soldiers alike, everyone blending in like it was the most natural thing in the world. Here, the war was very real but far off, at least just for tonight.

Once we had all managed to recover from the shock of beauty before us, the bickering of where to eat began. Elijah wanted to find the spiciest food he could to see if it held up against his mother’s cooking. We all groaned at the thought of the stomachache that would plague us if we gave in to his wishes. Will kept wanting to go further into the city, too preoccupied with the women than the menus to make a choice. Finally, it was Alex who steered us towards a small place just off the river.

A woman with brown hair and lively eyes greeted our group and introduced herself as Sevenda. She sat us all outside, proclaiming that there was no need for a menu and that she would bring us enough food to last us for the rest of the month. We all sat with massive grins on our face, excited to eat all that she had to offer. Course after course of chicken, veggies, beef, and bread accompanied with wine and drinks filled the table and then filled our stomachs. We even got to laugh as Elijah descended into a coughing fit after Sevenda overheard him staying that it wasn’t spicy enough. He immediately apologized to her once he had downed a pitcher of water and begged for a small pouch of the spice to bring home to his mother.

With all the food and drink we had consumed; I would have thought that exhaustion would begin to drag at our group. Instead, the company and music from nearby performers pushed us onto our feet to find a drinking hall. Sevenda sent us off with a small bundle of snacks that would fit in our pockets for if we wanted to eat more later, as impossible as it seemed.

For a while, we followed the river, stopping often for a drink before moving on. There was so much to see and hear and eat and do.

Our group flowed easily, people dropping back or surging forward to participate in conversations. Our families and pasts and dreams and everything in between but nothing about what awaited tomorrow. Tomorrow was a far-off reality from tonight.

Maybe it was the company but probably because of the alcohol, I found myself agreeing to go into Rita’s. Or maybe it was the shock of hearing Adam _actually_ speak up by saying that he wanted to claim the drink Cassian owed him.

For a place frequented by the leaders of the army, the dancing hall was surprisingly casual. Half the space was dominated by a dance floor that was illuminated by colored lanterns that hung from the ceiling. The other half was split between a long bar and many booths and tables that were packed with patrons from all walks of life. Here, it did not matter if you were born on an estate or a farm. As long as you had the coin and willingness to dance, all were welcome.

As soon as I locked eyes with the general, I knew I had made a mistake saying yes to coming here. And the smile he gave me shoved that voice in my head yelling _mistake, mistake, mistake_ **far** back into my unconscious mind. The smile I gave him back surely had my ancestors cursing my name.

Our group wove through the crowd in time with the music that streamed from the band on the stage. Windows that were opened high above pulled in cool air from the Sidra (the name of the river, Sevenda informed us) to dry the sweat on the dancer’s skin.

As we neared, Cassian spotted us. “Flynn! Adam! I’m glad you could make it, the others had already come and gone and we weren’t sure if you would show,” the captain had a slight slur to his voice and coupled with his flushed cheeks, it was a sure thing that he was as drunk as the rest of us.

He called for another round of drinks, even getting some for the others of our group. The captain and his friends had claimed a large portion of the bar, but room was still scarce, and I found myself squeezed between Mor and Alex. I guess I should have counted myself lucky that the general was on the other end of the group, but I found my gaze continuously slipping towards his direction.

Through the gaps between bodies, his dark blue eyes clashed with my blue-gray ones too many times for it to be considered an accident. At least Mor and Alex were in deep enough conversation about dancing styles for them to notice that I hardly contributed more than five words.

Drink after drink appeared in front of me, the bartender clearly friends with Cassian and knew to keep the alcohol flowing. The world started to fade into the background, my damned focus going back to where Rhysand was creeping ever closer to my trio.

And suddenly

He was there

In front of me

Mor and Alex tired of talking about dancing had migrated to the dance floor where they began to challenge each other, attracting other patrons to cheer on one or the other.

“Hello, Flynn,” his voice was low, and I had to lean in to catch his words. Heat radiated from his body, inviting even with the bodies packing the room. The smell of sea salt and citrus wrapped around my intoxicated mind and made me want to do foolish things.

“Hello, General.” His eyes darkened slightly with my use of his rank.

“Please, call me Rhys, all my friends do.”

Unable to resist the urge to tease, “We’re friends now?” I said with an arch of my eyebrow.

“I like to think we are,” his words with self-assured but undercut with a hint of uncertainty. I realized that even though he was the general of the army, he was _nervous_ around me. The thought alone caused my loose grip on sanity to slip even more. It was ridiculous to even think that he could be nervous around a mere recruit, but here he was, talking to me but unsure of how I would respond.

I allowed myself a grin, “Hello then, Rhys.” His name was honey on my tongue, a taste I wanted to experience over and over again. Some faint warning bell went off in the back of my head but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember what I needed to be worried about.

His answering smile at me using his name warmed my core more than any drink could. Not knowing I was doing it, I leaned in more, drawn in by the swirling emotions in his eyes. He copied my movement until a scant few inches was separating our bodies.

Around us, music still flooded the room and bodies still twisted in time with the beat. Laughter and chatter filled every spare corner to be found except for ours.

Ours was a small bubble of anticipation and silence as the space between us grew smaller.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I could write nothing but world-building, I would be happy. I love describing settings and lore of stories.


	18. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all’s screaming is music to my ears <3 but because I love y'all so much, here's a late-night update and I can't wait to read your comments in the morning :)

A heavy arm sent me staggering into the bar, the sharp jolt of pain from the wood digging into my hip snapped me out of Rhys’s gravity.

“Wha-what are you two talking about so _hiccup_ intensely,” Cassian slurred in my ear, the reek of alcohol replacing the scent of sea salt and citrus.

Rhys recovered faster than I did, shifting Cassian’s weight from the both of us to just him. “Nothing important,” yet the wink he threw my way want anything but.

As if Rhys’s deflection was the funniest thing in the world, the captain threw back his head and roared with laughter, falling further onto Rhys.

And as suddenly as Cassian had appeared, he managed to snag Rhys’s drink and disappear again into the crowd. Our eyes met again, and I felt the tips of my ears burn as I looked away, all too conscious of what had nearly just happened between us. I scrambled for words, not knowing whether to laugh off the tension that was crackling between us or to turn tail and run. The adrenaline coursing through my system started to burn away the alcohol fogging my mind and bring common sense back to me.

“I don’t know why Cas tries to outdrink Amren, he knows it never ends well.” I forced my eyes up to follow his sightline, seeing the captain stumble towards a petite woman with shoulder-length black hair. Her red lips parted in a grin that could only be called wicked as she handed him another shot of something dark. They cheers and she downed the burning liquid in one easy motion while Cassian managed to spill half of it on himself and then choke on the rest.

We laughed at the scene, and then winced as Amren handed yet _another_ glass to him. “He’s not going to be happy riding a horse tomorrow,” I remarked.

“No, no he won’t and I’ll have to be the one to hear about it,” he groaned.

“Poor you,” I teased, falling back into our easy rhythm. “I haven’t seen Amren before, does she live in Velaris?”

“Yes, she stayed behind to raise funds for the army although I know she would much rather be at the front with us,” he motioned to the bartender for a new drink, leaning against the damp surface.

“Wow, I can’t imagine many people running towards a war,” surprised at how a woman of nobility would want to be so close to death and destruction.

Rhys gave a comical shudder, tossing a pained look my way. “Amren is a different sort of breed, for as long as I’ve known her, she’s always been a bit more… vicious than those of us that had been trained for the battlefield.”

Both of my eyebrows shot up as I turned to look at her again. With how she was ruthlessly drinking Cassian under a table, I could believe it.

“Do you live in Velaris then? If you’ve known her this long?” My curiosity keeping me from walking away from a potentially dangerous situation.

“Yes,” his eyes shining with love and pride for the city. My chest clenched at the sight of the raw emotion. “I was born here and have never wanted to leave.”

“It’s a beautiful place,” I agreed. What little I had seen of it had captured my heart.

“Did you get to see The Rainbow? It’s my favorite place in the city,” his eyes recapturing mine and holding me there.

“No, we got dinner and then started drinking so we didn’t get the chance,” I admitted.

“Let me take you.”

I blinked, surprised and speechless.

“Sorry,” he scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I meant, if you wanted, I’d be happy to show it to you. Since it might be a while until you can visit again.” The unspoken words about the war trailed the end of his sentence.

“I’d love to,” I said earnestly, giving him a reassuring smile.

“Let’s go then,” he took my elbow, gently tugging me towards the entrance. I cast a look around the room for my friends. Seeing them all happily engaged either on the dance floor or with someone, I let myself be led out of Rita’s and onto the teeming street.

Despite the ever-growing late hour, Velaris had become more alive, living up to its reputation of a city that lived under the stars. Indeed, even they seemed to pulse closer to the earth than I had ever seen, contributing almost as much light as the lamps lining the sidewalks.

People spilled onto the street, mostly empty of carriages as most preferred to walk the streets to feel the energy of the night. Rhys had dropped my arm as soon as we stepped out of the building and I didn’t want to admit how much I missed that small touch.

As we walked towards the artist’s quarter, he pointed out famed structures big and small. The golden dome across the Sidra was the biggest theater in Velaris and only second in size to the Royal theater in the capital. Rita’s was the oldest dancing hall in the city, having been passed down for generations in the same family. Sevenda’s, as I found out, was his and his family’s favorite restaurant in Velaris. When I told him that was where we had dinner, his eyes sparkled with delight and asked me all that we ate, comparing our favorite dishes.

Ahead, the bridge that would take us into The Rainbow loomed. Statues lined each side, spaced evenly apart with views of the Sidra and Velaris on both sides. The basic lampposts changed to those of masterful works of metal, each one crafted by a different artist and topped with a colored lantern. Crowds flowed to and from the quarter. A kaleidoscope of wonder drew my attention every which way.

I nearly forgot who had led me there as my eyes flitted from storefront to storefront. Galleries and supply shops and studios with tiny cafes squeezed in between were bursting with light and life and color. My fingers itched to buy a sketch pad and pencils and try to capture the beauty around me. My ears strained to pick out all the different symphonies that came from every corner, music like I had never heard before made my heart dance and sing and cry.

“Do you like it?” the soft question startled me out of my reverie.

I turned to the source, meeting the open gaze with one of my own. “I… I don’t have any words for it,” I answered breathlessly. “It’s….”

“I understand, it makes me feel the same way.”

We stayed there, just off to the side of the street, the crowd flowing around us like a river flows around a rock, taking in every emotion on the others' face.

And for the first time in weeks, I felt like myself. Not Flynn the soldier who had lied to everyone around them but like Feyre from a no-name village who dreamed of having enough someday to paint to the end of her days. It should have scared me, being so open with someone. Not just someone who could order my execution, but just the act of my soul being exposed was a thousand times more terrifying. But there were so many other things to think about at that moment.

Like how the space began to shrink between us again, identical to how it did at Rita’s. This time, there was nothing stopping our lips from meeting, the brush of them featherlight and barely there.

My eyes slipped closed briefly before opening again to study the silver flecks in Rhys’s. His breath was still sweet from the wine he was drinking all those minutes or hours ago. One of his hands came up to sweep a thumb down my cheek before coming to rest on the curve of my neck. I covered that hand with one of my own, feeling the warm, soft skin there and how _right_ it felt.

I tilted my chin up slightly, silently answering the question he asked. Our lips met again, this kiss slow and sweet and enduring. A kiss that promised all the time in the world when neither of us was in the position to hold up the bargain.

I allowed myself to press in slightly and grab the edges of his jacket, feeling the hard muscle brush my fingertips. His hands cupped my face and tilted my head back to deepen the kiss.

The word _right, right, right_ beat in time with my thundering heart, drowning out the scream of _wrong, wrong, wrong_ in my head.

But all good things must come to an end.

As if there was a string tied around my gut, it yanked hard, making me gasp and break the kiss. Rhys’s eyes flew open, full of concern as he studied my face. “Flynn?” he breathed, “What’s wrong?” His gentle grip on my face slipped away as he took a half step back. “I’m s-sorry,” he stammered, “I didn’t mean to—,”

“No, no,” I hastily reassured him, “I’m fine,” going as far as to lay a hand on his arm. “It’s just late and I’ve had a lot to drink and we have an early march tomorrow…” I trailed off, uncertain of what had just happened. The feeling lingered deep in my stomach, like a worm that found a new home.

“O-oh,” he managed to get out, still studying my face.

“Walk back to camp with me?” I said, turning away from his intense look. I had already crossed so many lines, but I needed to put an end to tonight. Walking back together would be my last indulgence.

A thousand men between us from every day on just might keep me from making this mistake again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me say a loving “fuck you” to cracked ships because they COMPLETELY predicted what I was going to do after that cliffhanger. I love you so much but why did you have to read my mind through the internet. 
> 
> Also, please drink responsibly and don’t be a Cassian trying to out drink Amren.


	19. The Ancestors

It was chaos.

Pure, undiluted chaos as spirits old and young rioted at the scene below.

“YOU STUPID GIRL—,”

“WHY WOULD YOU—,”

“FINALLY—,”

“HOW DOES HE STILL NOT KNOW—,”

The shouts overlapped and blended, so loud that they should have burst into the physical world as thunder.

The pair below broke apart, an invisible thread connecting the spirit world to the physical.

All faces whirled to the one who tugged on the thread.

“HOW DARE YOU—,”

“THIS IS THE BEST DRAMA I’VE SEEN IN YEARS AND YOU STOP IT?”

“THANK YOU, SOMEONE NEEDED SOME COMMON SENSE.”

Voices continued to bicker and rage. Some watched the couple below start to make their way out of the city. Others were at each other’s throats.

The oldest of them all did neither. Their gaze was turned to the ever-present darkness on the horizon. Though they were the one that started the couple on this path together, they needed them both present and undistracted for now. Yes, their survival and the fate of the war rested on their shoulders and depended on them trusting each other, but the time for intimacy would come later.

Ancient eyes finally turned from the darkness to watch the city below. Once, they walked those streets. So different yet so familiar. Velaris had been smaller then, but still a hub of trade and art.

There on that corner was where they met their spouse, so close to where the couple had just had their first kiss.

Decades of memories washed over the spirit, some faded with time and others as if they happened yesterday. Joyous and bittersweet and hateful and loving.

A younger spirit drifted closer, following the gaze of the elder, now tracking the progress of the couple.

“He truly doesn’t know her identity, does he?” the younger asked.

The elder rasped out a chuckle, “No, he doesn’t. The one thing that never changes is the obliviousness of men.” The other joined in on the laugh, thinking back to their husband and how long it took him to realize their feelings.

The elder sensed their question bubbling beneath the surface. “Ask it,” they coaxed.

The younger flashed a glance to the others, now evenly split between supporting the couple and wanting to break them apart. “How long until Hybern’s darkness washes over this land?”

“Soon, too soon. Time is hard to judge up here but…,” they hesitated, “A month, maybe more, maybe less.”

The younger’s mouth tightened, turning their worried glance to the horizon. It was slow but there was progress forward from that black cloud. They still didn’t know what lurked within it.

“Will Prythian survive if they fail?” the question was soft and full of fear.

“No.”

The word was so final, but it was true. In their millennia of years of existence, never before had the elder felt this kind of darkness. It was hollow and cold and devoid of all life. There were too many unanswered questions.

All they could do was offer what little protection they could to the woman below and hope that she could fully realize her destiny.


	20. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Workingonit_and_willgetthere who left me a lovely comment and got me to reopen this story. I’m sorry I’ve been so absent with work and life, but I promise this story will never be abandoned!

If there was one thing I was familiar with at this point, it was walking.

The march to the front was a bit less than a week, but it was made longer by the autumn rains that had started. An unending deluge of water poured from the sky, turning the road to mud and slowing our progress.

Nights were a rare respite from the rain, our tents providing shelter from the wet world but our clothes remained nearly soaked and uncomfortable. And as much as I wanted to see Mor, I knew she was busy treating a million different ailments that came with being on the road in the rain and she didn’t need me to bother her with my boy problems.

_Cauldron._

_I had boy problems while being disguised as one._

When I die, I’m certain my ancestors will bar me from that gates of the afterlife for most likely making them wish that they could die all over again.

I almost wished that Hybern attacked us while we are on the road if only to stop my mind from replaying that night, that _kiss_ , that walk back to the camp over and over and over again. Because with all this walking, there was little better to do than to think. Oh sure, we all talked to one another, but the constant onslaught of water drained our energy and our words. I was almost grateful for the weather because it stopped any of my friends from asking me where I had disappeared to that night.

I was lucky that the morning after our night in Velaris, everyone was too hungover, too busy, or both to question me, and then halfway into that day, the rain started. It was now day three with another five full days of walking before we reach the fortress that defined the current battlefront. Hopefully by then, everyone will have forgotten that I didn’t finish the night with them.

However… our march would come to an end at some point and that meant that there would be more of a chance of Rhysand and I running into each other, especially in a confined space.

On the road, it was all too easy. He rode at the front of the procession as the general, receiving reports and issuing orders, suffering from the rain with the rest of us. When we came to a halt at the end of the day, he always stayed with his captains while I hid amongst my friends. On the road, it is all too easy.

I reached up and shifted my collar in an attempt to keep the water from sluicing down my body, creating goosebumps in its wake. A quick glance over confirmed that Alex was just as miserable as I was. Even Elijah was sparing with his words, his usual loud voice and unending chatter reduced to near nothing. Maybe the rain _was_ punishment for my actions.

I muttered a curse as my boot got stuck in a particularly deep trough of mud. Although staying far away from _him_ was the best course of action, it also meant that I was constantly picking through the thousands of hoof and footprints, narrowly having to avoid falling on my ass at all times. By the time we reached the front, I would either be barely able to stand or my legs would be the size of tree trunks.

And so we walked on.

And on.

And on.

* * *

Darkness was falling fast on the end of the eighth day when the cry went up.

“We’re here!” the shouts echoed back to us. Trees began to thin on both sides, a gently rolling plain dominated by a stone structure filled the horizon. Heads and shoulders lifted, along with our spirits. We had arrived at the front and with Hybern nowhere to be seen, the fortress was a haven from the rain and a place where we would finally be dry with a full belly.

Alex nudged my shoulder, prompting a small smile to form on my lips. All my fears of being here slipped away as the prospective of escaping the wet filled my head. Our footsteps increased in pace to keep up with the rest of the army, all of us bolstered by the fact our long march was at an end.

Elijah started to tell a story about how one time his brother got so drunk that he swam into the middle of a river and passed out on a big rock that happened to be there. By the time we reached the outer walls, we were all laughing at how he described the confusion of his brother when he woke up the next day with his mother who had swum out to him with the sole purpose of tanning his hide.

It wasn’t until the outer wall had risen up to meet us when I realized that the general and his captains has stopped right outside to make sure every one of their last troops had made it inside.

I realized this when I looked up from my bout of laughter _and made direct eye contact with Rhysand._

Oh

Fuck

You would think at this point I would have decent survival instincts.

Nope.

Our gazes remained locked as I promptly forgot how to walk and tripped over a loose cobblestone and stumble into Adam, who managed to barely catch me.

“Archeron,” his voice cut through the chatter.

_Oh_

_Fuck_

It had been over a week since we had come face to face and now here he was, calling me out in front of everyone. I recovered from my near disaster, weaving through the men to stand in front of him, where he was still astride his horse, flanked by Cas and Az who also had their gazes trained on me.

_Had he told them what happened? Do they know? Rhys gave no indication that he figured out who I was when we walked back to the camp together, but he had time on the road to think about it…_

What could only have been a few seconds felt like an eternity as these questions and thoughts raced through my mind. His gaze raked over me like a hot iron, bringing too many memories to the surface.

In a flash, his face turned from that of a general to that of a friend with an amused smirk. “Archeron, try not to break yours or Haywood’s arms, we need our best archers well and intact.”

 _He called me over there just to make a joke?_ “Yes, sir,” the honorific feeling foreign on my tongue. Cas and Az snickered at his comment, the former earning a barely veiled glare from me. The captain had become at least a familiar acquaintance in the past few weeks of training that I felt I could get away with this small act of insubordination.

Cas returned the glance with a look of sugary-sweet innocence that was ruined with a sharp grin. “Dismissed, soldier,” he said, turning to look at Rhys with a glance that was a little too knowing for me.

I ducked my head to avoid meeting that violet gaze again and pushed the thoughts about how good he looked even after a week of wet hell out of my head. Rejoining the flow of soldiers into the fortress, I pretended that I couldn’t feel his attention on my back until I was swallowed up by the cold, but dry, walls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote Feyre’s chapter first but then I remembered y’all wanted a Rhys POV after the kiss so next chapter will be his!


	21. Rhysand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all’s comments are so beautiful and kind. They actually moved me to tears… and to open my laptop back up and write more chapters. I’m so inspired and motivated to finish this story now so I hope y’all enjoy!!!!!!

If there was one thing I was familiar with at this point, it was riding.

Riding and thinking. Much too much thinking.

About war.

About my soldiers.

About one in particular…

The autumn rains hit us hard on the first day of our march to the front and continued with no end in sight. The constant onslaught of water even got Cas to shut his trap, a blessing and a curse wrapped up into one. At least as the weather sapped most of his talking energy, it allowed me to stew in peace about the past and the future.

The future held too much pain and bloodshed for me to want to dwell on. We had nightly meetings to work out strategies and to try to decipher Hybern’s movements, or lack of them. Reports on them were still far and few in-between. Debates raged back and forth about whether they would stay in the mountains for the fall and winter, or if they would emerge and attack before the first snows set in. Facts and theories and plans were thrown from each side, only to be struck down by the other and refuted. At the end of each night, everyone conceded that we still knew nothing and could only plan for everything.

That left me with the choice to reflect on the past.

In between receiving scouting reports and giving commands, the constant rushing of water and easy sway of my mount allowed me to play and replay my last night in Velaris over and over and over again.

 _Flynn Archeron._ I allowed the name to roll silently around my tongue and occupy my mind. The soldier in question had taken a position at the back of the procession, far from my range of communication and sight. I knew the second I turned around too many times, Cas would open his mouth despite the rain and pester me with questions. Some of which would land too close to the truth.

I was lucky he was too drunk that night to notice my (and one of his soldier’s) absence. Well, maybe not lucky enough since his drunken behavior nearly ruined any chance I had with Flynn. It was a small miracle in and of itself that I managed to convince the recruit to see Velaris with me.

I allowed the corners of my mouth to twitch up slightly, remembering the look of awe and wonder on his face when the Rainbow came into view. Flynn’s blue-grey eyes reflected the beauty of my city, making me see it in a whole new light. The raw emotions that played across his face reminded me of a more peaceful time, when I explored the city with my mother and sister. There was a half a dozen times that I had to stop my hands from reaching out and seeing if I could feel everything he was feeling with a mere brush against his skin.

_“Do you like it?”_

_“I don’t have any words for it.”_

His freckles were more numerous than the stars above and stretched wide with the smile on his face, brighter and warmer than any sun. I don’t even think he realized how gorgeous he looked in the teeming crowd, standing out from the beauty around him.

When the space between us became nonexistent, I thought nothing on this earth could feel so perfect. And then our lips met, and I was proven wrong.

For the first time in weeks, I felt like myself. Not Rhysand Knight the General of the Imperial Army, but like Rhys. Rhys from Velaris who had the freedom and time to explore and enjoy the world around him. My hands weren’t stained with blood and the weight from my shoulders lifted.

Flynn’s lips were soft and warm and tasted of Sevenda’s spices, tasted of _home_. The first brushing of our lips was brief, but he was the one that pulled me in again, giving me permission to deepen the kiss without a care in the world.

And for one

Two

Three

Four seconds, the world stopped spinning just for us to have this moment.

And then it ended with Flynn pulling back and me turning into a stuttering mess thinking that I just fucked up the only good thing to happen to me in a long time. It was those moments after the kiss that took prevalence in my mind when the hours on the road grew long and the night grew dark. As much as I tried to cling onto his words of reassurance that everything was _fine_ and the fact that we did walk back to the camp together, the moment of him breaking away from me gnawed at my gut.

“General,” a voice broke me out of my thoughts, probably for the better. I nodded to the soldier and listened as he gave his report. We would reach the fortress by this evening. I thanked and dismissed him, forcing my mental state back into that of a general, not a lovesick boy.

* * *

Cassian was the first to raise the cry that we had arrived at the front, giving the men a much-needed burst of encouragement to make it just a little longer before they could be dry and warm. Their shouts of joy traveled back through the columns and our pace increased as they realized that our march had come to an end.

When we reached the main gates, Cas, Az and I peeled off, monitoring each head that walked through the entrance. No one would be unaccounted for tonight as fires would be built and food passed around. My gaze darted across faces familiar and foreign, looking for ~~Flynn~~ no one in particular.

And then, towards the end, eyes all too recognizable met mine, paired with the warmest sound I had ever heard. _His laugh._ I realized I had never heard it before in that pure form of happiness.

Eyes that promptly stumbled into Haywood, causing me to choke down a laugh but not his name. “Archeron.” _Why why why would you do that? Are you_ trying _to let the whole damn army know about your feelings?_

The soldier approached, leaving me little time to come up with words that didn’t sound too stupid. Too quickly, Flynn stood before me. I could feel Cas and Az shooting me a quick look before they focused on him.

“Archeron, try not to break yours or Haywood’s arms, we need our best archers well and intact.” _There, that wasn’t too horrible._

“Yes, sir,” the man said, and a dark thrill ran through my blood at the word “sir”. _That_ would be a problem to contemplate later.

Flynn’s gaze shifted to Cas who had snickered at my comment, earning the captain a polite glare that some may have considered insubordinate. Cas dismissed the soldier and turned to me with a gaze I didn’t want to meet lest he see too much on my face. Instead, I watched Flynn’s form disappear into the fortress.

Finally, I braced myself and turned to look at Cas. The man’s grin had turned sharper than a sword and those damning words came from his mouth.

“Oh, you’re _so_ fucked.”


	22. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m wanting to do updates every other day but this work week is really busy so I may or may not have an update on Friday. I won’t ghost y’all!

I let out a sigh as the crackling fire reached into my sodden soul and began to dry it out. Despite the events that happened right outside the fortress, there were little thoughts in my mind besides finally being warm. Of course, my friends all questioned me about what happened, but I managed to brush it off as the general wanting to make sure his soldiers were okay after a week on the road. There was pushback wondering why he wasn’t checking on _every_ soldier, but Adam, _Adam_ , said that he did it because we were Cassian’s archers, and everyone moved on after that. I wanted to throw the usually quiet soldier a grateful glance but was too worried that he already might know more than I wanted him to.

Once we had gotten inside the fortress walls, soldiers who had been there for some time directed us to where we could drop our packs and then to where there was food being prepared for us. Despite my best efforts not to, I found myself looking into their faces, trying to anticipate what waited for us here. Many bore scars that were still freshly healed, all pink and red and gruesome to varying degrees. Bruised circles under their eyes indicated that even though Hybern had been retreated for over a month now, very little sleep was had as they waited for the enemy's return. And yet, they greeted us with warm smiles and claps on the shoulders, like we were long lost friends reunited at least. I suppose with the situation we were in, we were all friends and brothers in a way. Bound by death.

As hallways and corridors passed us by, everywhere was people. Soldiers and healers and messengers and cooks and maids and those in general that did everything in between to keep the army fed, housed, and alive while they defended Prythian. I saw children as young as five carrying baskets of food or linen and then women who could be my great-grandmother sitting on stools, ripping cloth for bandages or mixing bowls of herbs for the healers. After a week on the road, it struck me how _alive_ this place was even in the middle of a war. The rushing of rain had been replaced with the sound of steps on stone and chatter and laughter. Anytime my group looked lost (which was often given the size of the place), there was a friendly smile and finger to point us in the right direction.

Finally, the great dining hall swallowed us whole. I assumed it used to hold long tables meant for entertaining hundreds of guests, but now, most of those tables had been removed or broken down for a different use. Those that remained were shoved against the far wall and were being constantly replenished with food from the nearby kitchens. Chairs and stumps and anything else that slightly resembled something that can be sat on were now in dozens of clusters. At the center of each collection was a brazier that held our salvation. Fire. To the side of each one was a pile of wood so that those who claimed the spot could build up the fire at will.

By the time we had reached the dining hall, most circles had been claimed, leaving us one to the far side of the hall. Not that we cared with a plate piled high with food (one of the motherly maids _insisted_ that we take as much as we wanted) and the fire roaring in front of us.

Although the meal was a far cry from Sevenda’s cooking, it was hot and filling. With each handful of seconds that ticked by, I could feel another part of my body dry out and loosen up. Conversation was sparse at first, as we were all too busy shifting as close as we could to the fire and stuffing our faces. But before too long, Elijah was managing to spout off words about how his older brother (the same one who drunkenly swam to the middle of the river to sleep on a rock) dared him to take a coin and deposit it down their fathers’ ass crack that was hanging out when he was trying to milk their family goat. He proudly proclaimed that he managed to do it not once but _twice_ before their mother came along and took the coin from them. He was sure that they were about to get the scolding of their lives when she promptly deposited the coin _five_ times down her husband’s crack before disappearing when he turned around to find out why he kept getting a cold feeling down his backside.

I had allowed myself to get lost in the heat and food and story when a familiar voice broke me from its trance.

“This sounds like the fire to be gathered around, may we join?” the question came from directly behind me but there was no need for me to turn around to identify the speaker.

“Of course, General,” Alex was the one to answer, moving not closer, but _away from me_ to make room for Rhysand and the captains. Cas and Az choose seats on the other side, next to Will and Elijah while Rhys thought it was a _terrific_ idea to take a stool next to me. I forcibly kept my gaze on the dancing flames, pretending that the heat that radiated from him wasn’t any different from the fire in front of me.

~~I was lying to myself.~~

At Cassian’s request, Elijah started up another story, not caring that the general and his captains were far from the average soldier. Elijah’s words turned to mud in my ears as I fought to keep my face blank and my breathing even. After days on the road not laying eyes on each other, here we were interacting twice within hours. Well, you couldn’t really call me barely moving while Rhys ate beside me interacting, but it was close enough for me.

Minutes continued like this. Any heat I had managed to absorb into my body leeched out again, only to be replaced with the warmth that radiated from the general. Too many times did our sleeves or legs brush, only for him to withdraw before they did.

~~I wish he didn’t.~~

_I should get up. I should walk away. I should make up a million excuses to find a hiding spot in the fortress and never emerge. I should, I should, I should…_

_~~I could stay right here for a little while longer.~~ _ ~~~~

Doubt pressed in on me from all sides. Any action I took could be construed in any which way.

Now, was I completely overthinking this?

Yes, absolutely. But it was overthinking that kept me from being discovered and executed. And then I made the wonderful decision to _stop_ thinking and allowed things to happen which is _exactly_ how I ended up in this position.

That position being a woman-disguised-as-a-man-in-the-Imperial-army-who-had-somehow-managed-to-catch-the-eye-of-the-general-and-then-made-the-stupid-mistake-of-kissing-him. I didn’t really need that clarification but it’s always good to remind myself how absolutely _fucked_ I am when things inevitably go south. Maybe if I was lucky, a Hybern soldier would gut me before he figured out how much of a liar I am.

 _Maybe_ if I was lucky, but I had a feeling my luck was running out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y’all ever wonder where I get Elijah’s stories from, it’s usually an adaptation of my college ex’s drunken adventures.


	23. Rhysand

Okay, _maybe_ it was a mistake to steer Cas and Az towards Flynn’s fire. But I was cold and tired and hungry and just wanted a warm place to get off my feet and put some food in my stomach. At least the excuse of having a chance to listen to Elijah’s stories was easy since Cas had roared with laughter every time the man opened his mouth.

Unfortunately, the soldier I had wanted to see was decidedly _not_ going to look at me, instead keeping his gaze trained on the fire in front of us. I ate my food in silence, half-listening to whatever tale Elijah was spinning, more focused on the man beside me. He sat with such a stillness, it made me wonder if he had somehow turned to stone. However, his cheeks and ears seemed to get steadily redder the longer I sat by him and the more I shifted slightly closer to him. Or perhaps that was just from the heat of the fire warming his skin. Skin that I had felt beneath my fingertips and made them itch for another taste.

_Stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it_

After nearly ten minutes of zero interaction, it looked like I would have to take manners into my own hands, as stupid as a decision that may be.

“Archeron,” my voice at a conversational level, hopefully casual enough that it wouldn’t draw attention. The soldier jumped slightly, much to my amusement, and turned slightly, still not meeting my eyes.

“Yes, General?” That dark thrill again shivered through my veins at him using the honorific. That was really going to become a problem if we kept, ah, _running_ into each other.

“I thought we were friends now?” allowing a small amount of hurt to creep into my voice.

Flynn’s cheeks and ears miraculously darkened even more as his eyes shot to meet mine. In the dimming light of the hall, they had turned more grey than blue. Or maybe all the time in the rain had caused them to absorb the color of the sky. “Rhys,” he said hesitantly, still unsure of the familiarity despite what had happened between us.

A smile tugged at my lips, “There, was that so hard?”

“No,” he said with a roll of his eyes, a smile of his own tugging at his lips. Though he turned his gaze back to the fire, his posture had relaxed.

Beats of silence passed us by until it was obvious that I would have to be the one to speak again. “I think Cassian is enjoying Elijah’s stories a little too much.”

Flynn scoffed and shot me a glance before looking across to where Cassian was nearly falling off his stool with laugher. “Don’t try to tell me that you don’t.”

“I would say that I’m otherwise preoccupied at the moment,” I dropped my voice a bit, the words only meant for the archer.

His eyes widened, shifting backward in surprise before they darted around to see who might have heard me. The words were reckless and stupid and I refused to stop myself from saying them. The stones of the fortress weighed down on me, an ever-present reminder of how very real this war was.

And yes, after every word, I cursed myself. At every thought of Flynn I had, I turned my thinking the other way. But why? What was the point of trying to convince myself of anything but to spend what little time may remain being happy? With every shift in the wind and sunset that set the land ablaze, the end of the war drew nearer. It was selfish of me to want during these times but what was the point of worrying when tomorrow we could all be dead. Shouldn’t our last ~~seconds, hours, days~~ , weeks, be happy?

Flynn’s eyes pulled me out of my downward spiral. In the time we had been speaking, the grey in them had disappeared, replaced with a blue that reminded me of where the Sidra met the ocean. Dark and light eddying together to make a masterpiece that never ceased to bore me. So many things about the soldier reminded me of home. Perhaps that was what drew me to him again and again. For a sense of comfort and relief that could only be found in Velaris. A city I so desperately wanted to see again.

A city I so desperately wanted to see with Flynn by my side.

It was ridiculous, honestly. I knew next to nothing of this man but there were so many plans I wanted to make with him. Did he know? Did he know how much I wanted to get on my knees before him and beg for another chance to show him my home and the little parts of it that held my soul?

A loud round of raunchy laugher yanked us both back to the dining hall. Air rushed into my lungs, tasting of smoke and sweat and meat. Around us, the men were all nearly tipped back in their seats or doubled over with laughter. Even Elijah wasn’t able to keep it together and was clinging onto Cas’s shoulder for support to stay upright.

Flynn cleared his throat, shifting in his seat, “So, um, how’s Mor doing? I haven’t seen her since Velaris? I know she was pretty busy on the road…” his voice trailing off as if he was embarrassed for starting to ramble.

Personally, I couldn’t even begin to care, but I answered before the gap between us had a chance to grow again. “She has been busy, but she accepted that reality as being a war healer. She’s been asking about you, too.” Now it was my turn to be on unsteady ground. The pointed questions that Mor shot in my direction led me to believe that the woman knew more than she was letting on but refused to put me out of my misery. “I think she’s settling into the healer’s catacombs, if you want to see her.”

A smile broke out on the archer’s face, “I’d love to if she has the time.”

“Really?” I blinked in surprise, expecting the man to want to stay by the fire with his friends.

“Yes, I’m done eating, so all that’s left to do is listen to Elijah’s tales.”  
“I’m sure that’s much more preferable than dealing with a road sore Mor.”  
He let out a small huff of laughter at my accidental rhyme. “There will always be more stories to listen to, he never runs out.” We made to stand at the same time, slipping away easily as everyone recovered from the stitches in their sides. Depositing our plates at the entrance to the kitchen, we wove through the clusters in the hall. A sea of greens and browns and blacks spread before us, punctuated by the occasional white of a healer.

As I passed by my men, those that greeted me received a clasp on the shoulder or a hello, many of whom I knew by name or at least recognition.

This fortress housed nearly three thousand troops with a few hundred support staff keep the place running. Even though our numbers seemed impressive, there were wings that were closed off due to disuse. This place had once been a fallback stronghold that served as our main training center for the Imperial army. At its peak, over seven thousand men slept within these walls.

But war is as war does.

It kills and takes and leaves too few survivors behind.

Hybern had spent far too long pushing our line back, back, back until these walls were the last defense for miles and miles. That last bloody battle over a month ago almost buckled my men’s remaining will and hope. Hybern pulling back to allow us to recover was not a small mercy. It could only mean that a bigger problem was on the way.

A brief brush against my arm pulled me once again back into the world of the living. Flynn hadn’t seemed to notice the contact, instead casually taking in details as we made our way through the halls. As slyly as I could, I studied the archer from the corner of my eye, hoping I could catch an echo of the curiosity and wonder that was on his face that night.

With most of the men who were already stationed here having a month to recover, the path down to the healer’s catacombs was quiet. The hustle and bustle of the main halls faded away as the air became cool and damp. The slight breeze chilled my flushed cheeks, sending a shiver down my spine. Like before, no words passed between us, but it was an easy silence rather than an uncomfortable one.

Suddenly, a weight began to pull at my heels, slowing my steps until Flynn was slightly ahead of me and paused, sending me a questioning look. Silence filled the empty hall as we came to a halt, both of us equally confused.

“Rhys?” his words quietly loud in the echoing space. Concern began to weave its way across his face. “Are you ok? I want to say we’re almost to the healers if you’re feeling unwell.” The man took a half step towards me, hands reaching out as if to catch me.

“I—,” I started but no other words came out. Every thought had emptied from my mind. Flynn closed the space between us, his brow creased and caution thrown to the wind as it was apparent he was worried I was about to kneel over and die for no apparent reason. His warm breath brushed my mouth as he studied my eyes, looking for any sign that I was okay.

Flynn wouldn’t find what I was looking for because I was decidedly _not_ okay. The world was prepared to end in bloodshed and here I was too busy worrying about everything and not taking what might be one of my final chances to be happy.

Not completely of my own volition, one of my hands began to drift upwards until it brushed his cheek, heat seeping into my fingertips that had become cold at point. The ghost of a shiver wracked the archer’s body as his eyes drifted closed.

Apparently, he wasn’t having many thoughts going through his brain either.

Might as well be two idiots together.

My other hand came up to join the first, framing Flynn’s face. His freckles had started to disappear in the dimmer lights of the hall but up close the spread out before me like the night sky. His eyes slitted open and met mine, the blue endless and startling. We held each other’s gaze as I closed the distance between us until our lips brushed in the barest hint of a kiss, of a question.

Even with the hell we were steadily marching into, this was as easy as breathing, as natural as the sun coming up every day, as happy as I was going to be for a long, long, time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like my style of writing is all over the place but do y’all like it? Or do y’all want more consistency? Is it consistent already? Damn, I’m asking more questions than Rhys did this chapter.


	24. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sprinkle of spice for ya horny bastards

_How the fuck did I end up here?_

Well, that’s a damn good question I ask myself every day, every hour, every second. If my ancestors had an answer for me, they were withholding it.

One moment, Rhys and I were by the fire in the dining hall. The next, we were wandering the halls together, on our way to see Mor. I wished I could convince myself it was because I needed to get more herbs to stop my monthly bleedings, but in reality, Mor had given me a several months supply and I was using this opportunity to steal some moments alone in the general’s company.

Stupid, I know.

And of course, we should not have been trusted alone together.

Even though his fingertips were cold, every other part of him leaked warmth into my body. His palms branded their mark onto my cheeks, his chest pressed against mine was a reassurance I didn’t know I needed.

We were lucky that it was quiet enough down here that echoing footsteps would be our warning to break apart.

~~I hoped that the world would silence itself forever.~~

It was all too easy to let go of my worries and fears when Rhys was with me. It was all too easy to let parts of myself shine through the manly façade I had crafted (albeit poorly). It was all too easy to let my hands come up and rest on his shoulders, marveling in the strength hidden beneath layers of fabric. Shoulders that upheld the wellbeing of this army and so many other responsibilities.

At some point, my eyes had closed again, my body solely wanting to focus on every point of contact. I tilted my head up, deepening the kiss, an opportunity he took advantage of. One of those hands left my face and found a new home in the small of my back, giving him the leverage to turn us so that my back was pressed against the wall.

Cold stone was at the bottom of my list of awareness, drowned out by the sensation of him. Rhys’s teeth sunk into my bottom lip, eliciting a groan that he swallowed. My hands left his shoulders, opting to tangle in his hair instead. Despite weeks on the road, his hair was soft to the touch, with only a few snarls in it. Perfection compared to my tangled mess, but that didn’t stop the general from digging his fingers into the nape of my neck and coaxing my head back to expose my throat.

He tore his lips from my mouth, forging a trail down my jaw and to where my thundering heartbeat was betrayed by my pulse. There they hovered, their nearness sending shivers down my spine. I swallowed, flexing the tendons there, hoping that they would soon feel their pressure.

Rhys continued to hover, drawing out one moment into a thousand. Right as I began to wonder at his pause, he pressed an open-mouth kiss right under my jaw. It was such a simple thing, but it began to spread a wildfire in my blood.

His teeth were sharp against the sensitive skin, but careful to not leave a mark as they sucked and teased. My fingernails scraped against his scalp, a plea to not stop. A growl rumbled through his chest and into mine, those vibrations traveling deep into the pit of my stomach. Involuntarily, I bucked my hips against his, my prayer an afterthought that there were enough layers of clothing between us for him to not notice that I was lacking a very important part of a man.

For once my prayer was answered, his responding shove into me granting us both friction that made us groan.

However, it seemed my ancestors had a funny sense of humor. Or revenge.

His hands shoved beneath my shirt and traveled up my back. I bucked my hips against his and pushed my palms against his shoulders, trying to force distance between us, but it was too late.

His lips broke from my neck the moment he felt the distinctive band of cloth around my torso. Confusion made his body stiffen and then step away. Violet eyes that had been consumed by dark pupils met my wide gaze. His stare pierced through the layers of my soul until he finally saw me for what I was.

A woman.

An imposter.

_A liar._

Right under his nose for _weeks_.

“I can explain,” the words left my mouth before I could stop them. _Explain? Like that would stop your death…_

Rhysand had yet to move, confusion still wrecking his face into a betrayed mess. I could see it there, his heart breaking. It had just barely left his hands before I let it fall to the ground and shatter.

“Rhys,” I breathed, “Say something, please.” _Please let me know what fate awaits me._

At the sound of his name, he straightened, the look of confusion being wiped away by the cold, hard mask of a general. A general who had found a liar in his ranks. ~~A general that had fallen for them.~~

His mouth opened

And warning bells began to vibrate through the walls of the fortress.

Distantly, the cry filled the halls.

**_HYBERN HYBERN HYBERN_ **

We both turned towards the source before facing each other again. I could see the pain and indecision warring there. I could see my chance and I took it.

Before he could open his mouth and damn me, I took off running, blindly following my sense of direction until I reached the main halls.

Men and women ran in every direction. Some further in to seek protection, others ran into the courtyard and walls for a glimpse of the approaching army. Shouts and orders filled the air, adding to the chaos. While I was running, no footsteps gave chase to me, no indication that Rhys had tried to follow me, to execute me.

 _We both have bigger problems now, and with luck, I won’t have to face him again._ That thought made me stop and lean against a wall to catch my breath. I wasn’t sure which was worse. The possibility that the last expression I would ever see on his face was devastation or that I could very well die in the coming hours. Both were less than what I deserved for everything that I had done.

“Archeron!” _Fuck._ My adrenaline kicked up another notch as my name traveled through the air. Cassian came to a stop in front of me. His hair was beginning to escape his knot but otherwise, he looked the part of a battle-ready captain. I tried to read his expression, to see if Rhys had found him already. His dark brown eyes were lit with a fire that was ready to burn through blood and bone. “It’s time.”

Now it was my turn for confusion to take hold of me. “For what?”

Cas shot me an unimpressed look as he surveyed the surrounding masses, “For you to use those archery skills. We may have not known that Hybern was on the march again, but everything is in place to take care of them.”

“Oh…,” my mind still not caught up to his thinking.

“Have you seen Haywood?”

“Not since the dining hall, sir.”

“I’ll find him, you’re to report to the armory now for weapons,” and with that he was gone, disappearing into the thongs of soldiers and taking the last of my sanity with him.

I cast an eye around, looking for the general, praying that he would be elsewhere. When no accusing eyes met mine, I started my way to where I saw the armory by the front gates. I stepped out of the main hall, a chill wind that promised more rain bit my cheeks and seemed to whisper _liar liar liar_ in my ears. The mud in the courtyard was yet again being churned by thousands of feet, all in a rush to prepare for the enemy approaching.

Any warmth that I had managed to steal from Rhys had leached out of my body again, lost to the stupidity of my decisions. Lost in the crowd, I made it to the armory unbothered. There, a smith shoved a bow and a quiver full of arrows in my hands before turning to the next soldier in search of weapons.

I weighed the bow in my hand, firmly wrapping my fingers around it. Now was not the time to think about the mistake that signed my death warrant.

It was time to be _useful_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t @ me…


	25. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I‘ve been watching a lot of The Last Kingdom on Netflix (really good show btw) and it def helps me channel my inner war captain.

As it turns out, having a massive army marching towards you was a good way to shove every other problem out of your mind.

It was at the armory that Adam and the other archers joined me, followed shortly by Cassian. The captain had yet to inform us what the hell was going on, instead opting to lead us through the depths of the fortress until we were deposited out of a tiny side entrance that smelled of shit and rotting food. My already knotted stomach roiled from the stench that shoved its way up my nose and down my throat. However, I was fortunate to keep my dinner down. There would be plenty of time later to lose it.

During the battle.

After the battle.

If I survived.

From there, we crept over hills and through brush, none of us daring to breathe too loud. All we had besides our weapons was trust in our captain. Trust that he was leading us towards victory and not the certain death that awaited us outside the relative safety of the fortress walls.

The lands surrounding the fortress were hilly and patchy with brush and the occasional outcropping of trees. In the distance, we could hear the shouts and bells of our army as they prepared for battle. To our left, the dark mass that was Hybern marched, the beat of their feet like thunder.

While we rested inside, the last of the light had faded from the sky. The rain that had been hinted on the wind has been pushed back, back, back by strong gusts, allowing the full moon to shine upon the plains. Hybern’s armor seemed to gobble up what little light there was, their black regalia giving them the appearance of a hellish river that flowed forward. It dawned on me that we hadn’t even been at the front for two hours before war came to greet us.

As if summoned by the enemy army, mist drifted through the skeletal outcropping of trees we were all gathered in, giving us the advantage of being slightly obscured to those that would happen to look our way. Cassian was slightly ahead of us as he surveyed the endless marching lines of Hybern.

Adam shot me a glance; his words not needed to convey the _What the fuck is going on?_ that we were all thinking. Cassian turned to the six of us, one eye remaining on the marching soldiers.

In a voice so low we all had to lean in to hear, he began to lay out his plan that we had all been training for.

Just like how Hybern seemed to want us gathered for their final blow, Cassian planned to do just the same to them.

In the time between Hybern’s retreat and us arriving at the fortress, the captain had turned the battleground before us into a pit of Hell waiting to be revealed.

Hundreds of pounds of explosive powder had been spread, buried, and laid in the lands surrounding the stone walls, all of it waiting for our arrows to ignite it.

Although Cassian already had experienced archers in the army, he wanted fresh recruits that could be trusted and trained by him specially to go out into the field while the bulk of the army would draw Hybern’s attention to where it was needed. Veteran archers on the walls would set off the explosives closest to the fortress while we were to set off the back and sides. This would require patience. Every single last soldier needed to be within the area.

We were to spread out and ignite three specific points that would set off a series of explosions that would encompass their army and then work inward to destroy them.

It was brutal.

It hopefully would be effective.

Hybern continued to march by and my fear of battle switched to a fear that Cassian may have underestimated their numbers and their lines would never end.

“I see that look, Archeron, I made sure we planted a shit-ton of explosives.”

Embarrassed to be caught doubting the highly experienced captain, I nodded and ducked my head, running my fingers over the bow’s curve to reassure myself.

Over the past several weeks of training, he had us practicing all different kinds of shots. Initially, we all speculated that we would be sent on a suicide mission into enemy territory.

Somehow, this was worse. So many lives now rested on our young shoulders.

Cassian’s voice sounded again, “Soren, Harrel, you will stay here.” The two crept forward with his beckoning. “See that boulder? You will aim for the middle of the base on this side. Send as many arrows as you can to ensure that they ignite the powder and then _get down_. The same goes for the rest of you, as soon as you see the first flares of fire, lay the hell down and cover your ears. It will be hot and loud.”

We all murmured ‘yes, sir’. “Good, before I show the others where to be, do not light your arrows until the archers at the fortress had given the signal, and then,” the captain giving us a grin that promised blood, “Blow the bastards to hell.”

Faking bravery, I returned his smile with one I hoped wasn’t too shaky.

Leaving the crop of trees behind, the remaining four of us followed our captain further away from the fortress, to where Hybern’s lines seemed to finally end. There, he deposited two more archers, directing their gaze to their target. We were lucky in that it seemed there were no straggling soldiers. Hybern was determined that every last one of their men would be there to spill our blood.

Adam and I were the last ones to be positioned, on the far side of the killing field upon a hill. Even though no more than an hour could have passed, it felt like we had been creeping for most of the night. My legs were glad for the short relief of us kneeling in the soft ground, tall grasses hiding us from view.

“You see that divot in the ground?” Cas pointed at a depression in the land.

“Yes,” I returned, marking how the soldiers wove around it.

“This will be the hardest shot, and the most important.”

Somehow, my stomach dropped even further.

“We used that low point to dig tunnels in multiple directions so that we could lay powder right beneath their feet. They travel deep into the heart of the fighting ground. You _must_ make this shot as fast as possible if this plan is to succeed.”

Without my permission, my mouth released a string of curses, betraying my nerves.

Cassian let out a low chuckle before clapping a hand on my shoulder, “Fear not, Archeron, you and Haywood are the best I’ve seen in a long time. I have complete and total faith.”

I muttered words that were caught between ‘thank you’ and ‘fuck you’, but his words sparked a kernel of pride in me.

Of course, Cas had to lean in close to whisper words only meant for me, therefore ruining his praise. “Rhys will have my balls if you don’t make it back alive, so try not to miss, huh?”

My eyes widened, locking my gaze with the man. Cassian only let out another laugh before clapping me on the shoulder again and issuing a few last words of courage to us before disappearing into the night. Presumably to go wreak havoc somewhere else.

Instead of dwelling on the captain's last words and their implication, I readied my arrows and flint. Adam did the same beside me.

Mist floated by, giving the night an eerie quality, not the good omen I would hope for.

Finally, Hybern had stopped moving forward and formed row upon row of soldiers. Torches were struck and planted in the ground. Somehow, the simple act of lighting a field relaxed my shoulders.

_They are just men; they will burn like men._

The violent thought pulled me up short. Yes, I had been training for weeks, knowing that I would be fighting in a war, but this was my first act of aggression. If Cassian’s plan didn’t work, or something went unexpectedly wrong, I would be drawing my sword and entering battle.

_No, Feyre, believe in the captain. Focus._

I retrained my eyes on my target, feeling the wind blow by and how it would affect my aim. The gusts had subsided slightly, making the shot slightly easier. We would have to light our arrow, aim, release and repeat as quickly as possible, otherwise, it would be a simple matter for Hybern to see where those arrows were coming from and send men to put a stop to them.

Beside me, Adam shifted, his quiet demeanor slightly cracked as his eyes darted from the fortress to the army below. I rested a hand on his forearm, squeezing slightly and meeting his eye. We had not known each other for long and had barely spoken, but we were bonded by the will to protect those we loved. Maybe he had sisters at home like I did, or brothers. I hope he had parents that loved him and missed him and prayed for his safe return. He covered my hand with his, returning the squeeze.

_Elain, Nesta, Father, I love you._

My silent words drifted away with the mist, perhaps to be carried home to them.

There

A line of fire lit the sky. Burning arrows from the fortress wall rained before the front row of Hybern. I could not see where they landed, only focused on lighting my own arrow.

Sparks flared and caught the rag on fire. Not allowing myself to see if soldiers had turned our way, I trained my gaze on the divot and aimed my arrow to the sky.

_Breath_

_And_

_Release_

Twin flaming arrows stood out starkly against the night sky, Adam’s and I’s side by side as they rose and fell, perfectly in sync. We repeated the process again, releasing them just as our first arrows began to make their descent. 

Tonight, it seemed, my ancestors were watching over me. As soon as our arrows disappeared into the ground, light flared.

Adam and I hit the dirt hard, rolling down the opposite side of the hill in preparation for the explosion.

Not seconds after we covered our ears, blasts shook the earth, rattling my teeth in my skull. Heat scorched my eyelids and pressure pounded against my eardrums.

Over and over and over and over again, explosions sounded, drowning out all other senses until what must have been minutes later, they tapered off and stopped.

I cracked my eyes open, meeting Adam’s. The world had become brighter. Despite covering my ears, a loud ringing now filled them, drowning out all other sounds. My companions’ lips moved, but I shook my head sluggishly, taping my ears in a motion that I could not hear him. He repeated the gesture, apparently suffering the same problem.

I managed to push myself to my hands and knees, beginning the slow crawl to the rise. Smoke curled and rose over the horizon. The acrid smell of burnt flesh shoved its way up my nose, irritating my throat and making me gag with it's stench. 

Finally cresting the hill, I saw what we had done.

Before us, Hybern **burned**.


	26. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I meant to have this written and posted on Friday, but I wasn’t happy with how lame it was turning out, so I took a few days away from it. I’m lowkey afraid I’ve given y’all abandonment issues after my two-month hiatus lol

Screams of rage, of fear, of pain, filled the air.

_We did it._

Smoke choked the open sky, obscuring the moon that once lit our way. Now it was the responsibility of burning bodies to light up the ravaged battleground. Dirt was churned with chunks of flesh. The land had been reformed with dips and craters, some of which were already filled with the dead and dying.

What little soldiers had narrowly missed being blown apart or set on fire, now rushed towards the fortress in fury, driven on by their commanders. Their battle cries mixed with the painfilled screams of their own and the victorious yells of our army.

The ringing in my ears faded as Adam and I crept parallel to the destruction, towards the now safe walls of the fortress. With each increment of hearing I regained, a new level of agony was added to the soundscape.

What started as only the loud, high pitched screams; now, I could hear the low moans of those who were not fortunate enough to die with the explosions. Even though they were an army that was hell-bent on killing us and taking Prythian, pity for them yanked low in my gut. I had so rarely seen death in my life, but I knew that this would be a slow and cruel descent into the afterlife.

As we neared the fortress, its walls began to emerge from the hazy smoke that plumed and roiled over the bodies. The main gate had been opened to allow our soldiers out, to finish the last of the Hybern soldiers. Metal clashing on metal threaded its way into the symphony of battle.

_This is it; this is the end of the war._

Cassian had said that Hybern wanted to crush us in a final blow. There were no other armies out there waiting for us to fail, to show up unexpectedly. With the brilliance of the captain, he had managed to turn impossible odds in our favor.

Only a few hundred feet separated us from chaos and calm. A mass of soldiers traded blows outside of the main gates, our men a steady flow from the fortress while Hybern came in ragged waves, each one a little smaller than the next. Cas hadn’t specified if we were to fight after we had completed our mission or if we were allowed to return to safety.

Adam and I traded glances, unsure what was expected of us. We continued our slow creep forward, eyes and ears straining for any sound of Hybern approaching our semi-concealed forms. Our luck seemed to hold as we made our way back, everyone was too focused on the battlefield to notice the archers that had caused this chaos.

The mass of fighting bodies became distinct individuals, their movements lit by the fires on the field. The black of Hybern armor clashed with the variety of ours. With relief, I saw that it was mainly that black armor that littered the ground ahead. Their numbers were now severely diminished, and it looked like our soldiers worked in groups of two or three to take on one soldier at a time, allowing for a greater chance of us winning each clash.

Adam and I finally reached the point where we would have to risk open ground to make it back to the courtyard. It seemed that we had both decided to allow the others to take care of the now dwindling army instead of the possibility of interrupting the flow of battle.

Guilt curled around the edges of my brain, whispering that I should join the open battle instead of creeping away from it.

 _I played my part,_ I tried to convince it.

 _Have you, though?_ It hissed back.

 _Yes,_ I pleaded, hating that I sounded so afraid. _My inexperience would only get in the way._ Those hours spent with Cassian at the archery range had taken precedence over sword training. Tamlin still ran drills with us in the morning before we reported to the captain, but it was nothing as extensive as Alex and the other received.

 _I would be more likely to hurt one of our own instead of the enemy,_ I insisted.

 _If you say so,_ the imaginary voice laughed, making the tendril of guilt form into a knot.

I shoved it away as best I could, keeping my pace with Adam as we skirted the writhing mass. The walls loomed overhead, dim shapes flitting atop it as commanders either surveyed the end of the war or archers shot off precise arrows that ended Hybern lives before they got too close.

I cast my gaze over the killing field, hoping and dreading to see any familiar faces.

_~~To see one face in particular.~~ _

“Flynn!” a joyous voice called out to me. I turned, searching for Alex, knowing the voice that had been by my side for over a month. “You guys did it!”

I finally found him in the bloody scene, about twenty feet away with Elijah and Will. The other two men were finishing off a soldier while Alex raised his hand in a mock salute with his sword in hand.

As my arm was coming up to echo the salute and as my mouth opened to either say _thank you_ or _please focus_ or _good luck_ , a dark shape appeared behind my friend.

One arm snaked around his chest like a vice while a knife arced through the air.

Fear filled Alex’s eyes, meeting mine for the last time before the Hybern soldier slit his throat from ear to ear, blood spurting out from the gruesome wound.

no

No

NO

**NO**

**_NO_ **

“ALEX,” I screamed, not caring if my voice was too high to be perceived as a man’s. Not even fully registering my motions, I reached back and grasped for an arrow. Notching it, I drew back my bowstring until my arm trembled, lining up the shot. Straight and true, the slender form sliced through the air towards the man that had sealed his own fate.

His body collapsed on top of my ~~dead~~ friend who had been ~~alive healthy happy~~ _standing_ only seconds ago.

Distantly, I realized I had released the arrow with so much force, it pierced into the soldier’s eye socket and out the back of his skull.

The whirlwind of emotions inside of me calmed, the world becoming crystal clear around me. Every movement, every sound, I noticed. Soldier after soldier fell to my arrows and until my quiver was empty. When no more fletchings met my fingertips, I drew my sword, the metal ringing through the silence in me. I hacked through the bodies like stalks of wheat until there were no more, until red stained my hands, until I was sure that not one Hybern soldier would live to see the sunrise.

When the world was only a haze of smoke and stillness around me, I felt the fight drain out, leaving a hollow, frozen abyss. I stumbled to where Alex had been slain, his empty shell now partially buried by other bodies. I yanked them off of him, falling to my knees, gazing into his face, seeing the mortal wound that marred his neck.

Young,

he was so young and good and **dead.**

Alex was dead and I was still here.

A fraud.

A liar.

A coward who could have saved him.

_A coward that could have_ **saved him** _if I had stepped into battle instead of creeping around it._

_I…_

_I could have done_ something….

Pain lashed through the frozen abyss, shaking me out of its spiraling pull. Looking down, I saw what fate decided to repay me with.

Blood flowed down my side,

too much,

too fast.

The red appearing black in the dying light of the fires, spreading like poison.

_This is nothing less than what I deserve._

There were no others around to hear my cries, my screams, my silence, as the world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry…


	27. The Ancestors

“So, you thought you could save everyone?”

“Hush, she just got here. She doesn’t need your nagging.”

“What she needs is an ass-kicking.”

“So do you, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Quiet, all of you,” the eldest amongst them reprimanded before turning to the woman. Unlike the other spirits, who had an almost tangible blue form, the woman was pale and when she spoke, her voice sounded distant.

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” There was no fear in her words, just resigned defeat, perhaps tinged with relief. Her shoulders were slumped slightly, and her eyes were downcast, studying the world below. Seeing the body she had left behind, still holding her fallen friend.

In the silence, the gathered spirits joined her in taking in the scene.

Fires smoldered on the decimated field, but the sun started to rise on the new world. One that was now safe from the threat of Hybern. The darkness of their souls that had lingered on the horizon had grown and grown with every death on the battlefield, but now dissipated like mist in the morning light.

Those who hadn’t been bickering and aiming barbs at the young woman had watched as that darkness disappeared before studying the woman, assessing the weight that rested on her soul.

She was so young and had given her life not just to save her father, but to protect her country from what could have been the end of it. They had all feared that Hybern’s poison would seep into the land and the people, and then into the spirit world, destroying hundreds of generations legacies. None wanted to voice the fact that if Hybern rose again, they still wouldn’t know what was in that dark cloud or how to defeat it for a second time.

“Thank you.” Those words should have been the first she had heard upon entering the ancestral plane.

The woman looked up now, her form becoming more opaque with each drop of blood that left her physical body. No smile graced her lips at the words, but that wasn’t to be expected after, well, _dying._

“She should be thanking us,” one grumbled.

“She should be thanking _me_ for stopping _you_ from putting a curse on her.”

“It was only going to be a little curse.”

“You were going to try to bar her from ascending to the ancestral plane!”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“Quiet, all of you,” the eldest said, exasperated at having to control their sharp tongues, _again_. They opened their mouth, but this time was interrupted by the unexpected.

Light flared and faded from the woman’s body, stopping all mutters and drawing their attention to her and then down to the world below.

Prythian men and healers wove amongst the slain people, the soldiers ensuring that every Hybern was dead, the healers searching for the wounded. One of those healers knelt by the woman’s body, the girl pressing her hand into the mortal wound that still flowed.

Soundless words were called out by her and men rushed over, following the healer’s instructions to keep pressure on the gash and take the woman’s body to the catacombs.

“No… put me down, _please_ ,” the woman fell to her knees, trying so hard to reach out as if to stop the soldiers from moving her body. “I can’t leave h— _him_ ,” her voice broke as if she couldn’t bring herself to say the name of her fallen friend. “I can’t go back,” she whispered fearfully.

“You _can_ go back, you must.”

“I was only living on borrowed time.”

“No. You fought and earned that time. You _must_ go back.”

“How?” the question was flat, empty. Her eyes instead of following her body, stayed on her friend.

“It doesn’t look like the healers will not give you much of a choice in that matter.”

"How do I live in a world without Alex?” A pause, and then, "How do I face _him_?"

“Feyre,” a new voice sent a shockwave through the spirits. A man, dark in hair and with mischievous eyes, appeared at the woman’s side.

“Alex,” she breathed, reaching for her friend. Her face crumpled when her hands passed through his form, her body beginning to fade as the healers worked to close the wound.

“Feyre, you must go back. Live for me. Live in a world finally at peace for the both of us.”

“No, I _can’t_ , I don’t deserve to. After lying to everyone, after lying to you, after avoiding entering the battle.”

The man smiled and shook his head, “I don’t care that you lied to me about your identity. I only care that you were my friend who complained about Tamlin the Tool with me and _you_ were the one who set Hybern on fire.”

Her friend’s words brought a small smile to her lips, one that promptly shattered as tears welled up in her eyes.

“Oh, don’t cry, you know how bad I am with crying after Will saw that dog in Velaris while drunk,” the man worried and laughed, wishing her could touch his friend.

His laugh brought a small chuckle to the woman’s lips as she raised her eyes to study the man’s face one last time before her form faded completely.

The man stayed crouching a second longer, taking in the world below.

“How did you know her true name?” one of the younger spirits blurted out, earning a smack to the back of their head.

The man tipped his head back and roared with laughter. “She doesn’t remember me, but we used to live in the same village. We only knew each other through our parents, who traded their berries for some of our produce. You can’t imagine the shock I felt when I finally realized that my tentmate was an old acquaintance. I knew it wasn’t my place to ask her why she was dressing as a man and using a terrible fake voice.”

“So you’re telling me that everyone BUT THE GENERAL OF THE GODDAMN ARMY KNEW SHE WAS A WOMAN BUT HIM?”

“Pretty much,” the man laughed again, shaking his head and the stupidity of his friend and the general she was so clearly in love with.

“Um, well, I’m pretty sure he knows now.”

And once again, the spirits all crowded around to watch their favorite drama play out below, even while some of them still grumbled and attempted to throw curses at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooo, you know what would have really cruel? If I had posted the last chapter and also updated the chapter numbers to show the story as complete.


	28. Rhysand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah ha ha, sorry for the gap again in posting. I wanted to give y’all a solid chapter and not trash .-. that being said, I hope you enjoy!

My feet pounded down, down, down the stone steps and ramps, flying past healers and soldiers and staff, each scrambling to get out of the way of my mad dash.

_I should have been there._

_I should have been on the ground fighting with my men._

_I could have prevented this._

Instead, I was up on the ramparts, directing the flow of battle. Had it not been our final blow, had I not been needed to make sure that everything was in place and executed properly, I would have been there.

I would have killed the soldier that sliced into the archer.

_I could have protected him._

“WHERE IS HE?” I bellowed and then paused, confused and nearly tripping over my own feet in my haste to find the archer. “Or she. Or whomever,” I muttered, probably looking like a manic to my bloody and exhausted soldiers.

Taking a deep breath, I shook my head and asked again, this time calmer. “Where’s Archeron?” Hopefully, the last name would be enough.

A murmured chorus of ‘not sure’s and ‘I don’t know’s filled my ears, shoving my heart even further into my stomach. Ice crept down my spine to curl around the hard knot that had settled in my gut.

_Surely, someone must have seen them._

While I was high above the battle, I watched the archer weave and hack through bodies like stalks of wheat until there were no more. Until they kneeled to the ground by their dead friend.

And I thought everything was fine.

I thought it was all over.

Until the archer slumped over and blood spread over their body. So much and so bright in the rising sun of the new world we had secured for Prythian.

Time slowed as the stain of life, of death, spread and deepened and dripped. My feet had become carved stone, my eyes tethered to the archer’s body.

It wasn’t until the healer’s realized that they were still alive until I could move again. Until I could _breathe_ again.

My feet changed from stone to air, barely touching the pathways and stairs and floors as I began my sprint to the healer’s catacombs.

“ **FUCK** ,” I screamed, slamming my fist into the wall, pain registering dully.

“Rhys.”

_A familiar voice._

“Cas—,” surely he would know where his archer is. “Cas, where is Archeron?” I didn’t care that my words cracked and splinted in my mouth, I needed answers.

“Archeron is currently being seen by Mor,” he talked slowly and calmly, as though I was a wounded animal. Maybe I was.

“I need to see them, or he or she or whatever,” my tongue stumbling over pronouns, my mind jumbled and confused and scattered with the events and realizations of the past few hours. My soul was jagged and could only be soothed by the certainty of seeing the archer.

The one who had somehow become important to me in such a short amount of time.

_Cauldron, why must you play such games with me?_

Cassian’s face softened at my pain and confusion, his hand coming up to clasp each side of my face. In the flickering light of the torches, his eyes had turned a warm brown. “You must let Mor work on her in peace. She is in good hands.”

 _She she she she she she_ the word pounded in time with my heart. My brain switched to a different track, one that was just as painful.

“You knew?” I whispered, feeling betrayal wash over me like a rough wave. One that swept you from your feet and pulled you under.

A voice murmured in my mind _Why does it matter? They are one and the same person?_

Cas’s brow furrowed in confusion, his train of thought trying to catch up to mine. A shadow flickered over his shoulder. Azriel had appeared in the hallway, hovering, ready to intervene if need be.

“You knew? That she was a woman?” my voice becoming stronger, _angrier._

_Anger at what?_

Cassian’s brows smoothed and lifted, his lips parting in understanding as my question became clear. “Yes,” he said slowly, his hands falling back to his sides. “I knew.”

“As did I,” Azriel admitted, “And Mor.”

Shock knifed its way through my ribs and into my heart. _My brothers and cousin knew_.

“YOU ALL KNEW?” My temper flaring out to scorch whoever was in range, not caring that it touched those around.

“YOU DIDN’T?” Cassian losing the hold he had on his temper, heat rising to meet mine.

“Does it matter?” Azriel’s soft words were all that it took to smother the flames.

The anger rushed out of me with a harsh exhale, leaving me hollow. “No, it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry. I’m just—,” releasing another breath, “worried. Confused. Hurt, I guess, that she didn’t trust me with the truth.”

“Rhys, you’re the general of the Imperial army, you know the rules.” Cas’s voice firm but gentle. “She didn’t know if you would put her and her family to death.”

My stomach turned at the thought of issuing that order. He was right, however.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated, my ears now burning red at the realization that we were still surrounded by wounded soldiers who wanted nothing more than some peace and quiet after a battle.

Cas offered me a small smile and slung an arm around my shoulders, guiding me further into the catacombs. Az fell in step on my other side, another much needed steady presence.

Each step forward was an instant and an eternity. Uncertainty tugged at my heels, trying to slow me from facing what could be a painful truth. Mor was a skilled healer, but even she couldn’t stop death from claiming what was theirs.

_There had been so much blood._

The archway ahead glowed with light brighter than the hallway and buzzed with voices that echoed in the stone space. Healers in white rushed up and down aisles of cots and pallets and blankets, space barely spared for their footsteps. Women and men, boys and girls joined the flow of bodies where they could, carrying herbs, clean cloths, bowls of water, and whatever else was needed for the healing process.

Laced with the sounds of chatter and steps were those of pain, of suffering, of death. The overwhelming truth that I had led these men ~~and one woman~~ into battle struck me. Even with all of the planning and precautions and training, it still wasn’t enough to save everyone. There had still been Hybern soldiers who were fortunate enough to survive the blasts and had been fury driven to seek what revenge they could.

To take as many of us as they could into the afterlife to meet our ancestors.

It could have been so much worse.

It still might be if the archer was past the point of even Mor’s healing.

 _There_ , in the back, I saw the blonde head of my cousin bowed in concentration over a body. _~~Or bowed in sorrow.~~_

Cassian’s arm slid from my shoulders, allowing us to fall into a single line to make it through the chaos of a different type of battle.

A garbled, useless string of prayers started to ramble in my mind, drowning out any other thoughts. It was a blessing to have the fears and hopes shoved away until I knew what fate had in store for the archer. ~~For me. For us.~~

Twenty

Fifteen

Ten

Five feet away. We dared no closer in case we broke Mor’s concentration.

Heartbeats passed as eons, the body my cousin focused on too hidden from our viewpoint to know if it was the archer or another soldier.

“I can feel you behind me,” her voice laced with dry humor drifted over her shoulder. Taking her words as permission, I dared a few steps forward, my eyes darting everywhere and nowhere.

 _Not Archeron._ I released a breath I didn’t realize I was holding as the man’s face came into view, it twisted with pain as Mor sewed a gash on the man’s chest closed. Not a life-threatening wound for him.

Questions formed and broke on the tip of my tongue, each one not enough to—

“Your archer is five cots that way,” her head nodding to the right as her eyes never strayed from the wound.

“Oh,” was all I could manage. I had been so focused, so sure my cousin was with her that I didn’t even realize the golden-brown hair spilling over the side of the cot belonged to ~~my~~ the archer.

A white sheet was draped up to her neck, but not over her head.

**_Alive._ **

**_She was alive._ **

“The slice was deep, but she was lucky it missed everything vital. I’ve given her something for the pain, so she might be groggy or even asleep. Please try to not jostle her.”

“Thank you,” the words were hoarse, but Mor still heard them, breaking her concentration to meet my eyes briefly. She dipped her head and then continued her work.

Careful not to stagger with relief, I closed the scant few steps that separated us.

Details became clear as I took her in.

A bruise marred her jaw, spilling over to her mouth where the skin was split. Someone had done a quick job to scrub away the blood and dirt that had splattered on her, but flecks of it still lingered at her hairline. My fingertips itched to rid her face of the final traces of war.

I took a seat on the floor beside her, the cot low enough to the ground that our faces were nearly level with each other. Cassian and Azriel hung back slightly, giving us what little privacy could be afforded in the massive room.

I gave into my desires, my hand coming up to gently brush the dried flakes of bloodied mud. The light pressure of my fingers caused her eyes to flicker beneath bluish lids.

And finally

_Finally_

Those blue-grey eyes met mine. It had been only hours since I had seen them. A different time. A different world.

“Archeron—,”

“Feyre,” she whispered, “My name is Feyre.”

The final piece of the puzzle slotted perfectly into place, bringing the whole picture into view. “Feyre,” I whispered back, testing the name.

Tension melted from her face when I said her name, as though she was finally able to let the last of her disguise fall away, revealing the woman beneath.

“Good to see you’re still alive,” Cassian broke in. The corners of her, of _Feyre’s_ , lips kicked up in a small grin as her gaze switched over to meet Cassian’s.

Her jaw worked for a moment and then she managed to rasp out, “I wish I could say the same for you.”

A startled laugh burst from my chest, causing Feyre to look back over to me, her smile dropping away. Fear and apprehension and sorrow filled her features, making my heart twist and my stomach drop.

A quick glance over my shoulder showed that Cas and Az had drifted away, assisting the healers or visiting their men. Turning back to Feyre, she had turned away from me, instead staring blankly at the ceiling.

For the hundredth time that day, words failed me, everything coming up too shallow or harsh or lame.

It was a relief to hear her speak first.

“I did it to save my father.”

So simply put.

No other reasons or excuses. This woman risked her life in the army and in battle to spare her father of the bloody fate.

I thought of my own, lost to a different battle of a different war too long ago and now half-forgotten. I had been a few years too young to join him at the front, him a commander of his own achievements. The months following the news of his death were lost to me and the grief that still unexpectedly surfaced.

“I understand,” was all I could say, hoping that they would be enough.

I watched her eyes close and her face drop with exhaustion, but there was relief in there too.

“I’ll let you rest,” I made to get up.

“No,” her fingers twitched beneath the sheet, “Stay. Please.”

I settled myself back onto the ground, wondering what the hell to say next. I was glad she wanted me beside her, but there was still too much unsaid for the silence to be comfortable.

“I’m not going to execute you.” **_Really? That’s the best you could come up with?_**

“Well,” she huffed out a laugh, “I suppose that’s a relief. Nearly dying once is enough for me.”

I hoped my grimace could have passed for a smile.

“I’m sorry, for not telling you,” there was pain and regret in her face, but her eyes still refused to meet mine, no matter how I searched for them.

“I understand,” repeating my words from before. Somehow, I felt as though I was failing her. She had put her life on the line over and over again, facing down death and still managing to break away from its hold with her sense of humor intact. And here I was, making flat statements about how I wouldn’t kill the soldier that played a major part in saving so many lives.

Like I would even be able to. I might as well turn the sword onto myself.

Her chest rose and fell in a great sigh, causing the sheet to shift and slide down her body. Without realizing what I was doing, I reached up and tugged it back up to its original resting place, my fingers brushing her exposed skin.

Her breathing hitched at the contact, but perhaps that was because she was in pain.

“Sorry,” I murmured, blushing and looking down at my crossed legs.

“It’s fine.”

The silence grew and stretched until I felt as though I was drowning it in.

“I don’t care about…” struggling to find the right words, stopping and starting again, “I care about _who_ you are.” I winced at the declaration, them clumsy and not at all close to what was in my heart and mind.

“I care about you, too.”

I released a relieved sigh of my own.

“And since you seem to be struggling, I’ll go ahead and tell you that I’m a woman. I only dressed as a man so that I could take my father’s place in the conscription,” while her voice was still hoarse, there were notes of that same humor that had once teased me before. I ached at the familiarity of it, happy to know that there could be some semblance of before between us.

“I don’t care.” I was stuck in a cycle of repeating myself. “I… I’ve been with both men and women before.”

“Mor told me a while back.”

“Oh…” I silently cursed my cousin for leaving me in the dark when it came to the archer, leaving me to stumble around blindly to find a path to her.

Her eyes flickered, studying the ceiling above, but still refused to meet mine.

Finally, I could take it no longer. I needed to see them, to see what possibilities they held. To see what answers and peace they could bring me.

“Feyre,” I said softly, reaching forward until my fingers skimmed her jawline. “What are you thinking about?”

Her chest expanded and pushed out a breath that grazed my skin.

“I’m—,” she stopped her words in their tracks, another breath shifting the sheet that laid over her. “I’m afraid that if I look at you, you won’t kiss me.” The words were so soft, as though she hoped they would get lost in the air between us.

My heart clenched at them, causing a pressure to build in my chest. My fingers stilled on her chin, gripping it gently, turning her face towards me. “Do not be afraid of the impossible.”

I closed the distance between us, grazing my lips upon hers. The harsh sting of disinfectant still lingered, but beneath was the taste of Feyre. Of the soldier who had caught my eye and captured my heart. The soldier who had helped saved our country from ruin.

The kiss was brief, yet still held the promise of a future in it. A future when she was healed and where we returned to that street corner in Velaris with all the time in the world.


	29. Feyre

_Of course everything would be the same as you left it._

The warfront had never reached my village, a blessing that had escaped too many. The only changes I saw as I approached the outskirts was that fall had well and truly taken hold of the landscape.

Leaves had deepened into brilliant shades of red and orange, some littering the ground while others managed to keep their hold on branches. All crops that had once been growing on the flat plains had been harvested for the winter, leaving brown soil exposed to the sun. Fattened cows wandered their pastures, unaware of the upcoming winter that would require a few of their lives.

Said leaves crunched beneath my boots, their echoes deafening in my ears as the sound bounced off the trees that lined the road.

The silence was almost incomprehensible. Had it been only weeks ago when the din of battle drowned out the quiet of nature? It would have seemed like a far-off dream, something to eventually be shaken from my memories had it not been for the dull pain of losing Alex that had taken residence in my chest.

If it weren’t for Rhys, I would have missed the pyre that carried his earthly body to his ancestors.

Once the smoke had dissipated and the battleground deemed clear of any residual explosives, three massive pyres were built to burn our dead. Hybern was afforded a mass grave, but there was little of the army that remained intact for burial.

It was in one of the many hallways of the healing catacombs that Rhys found me slumped against.

_“Just…” I panted between clenched teeth, sweat soaking my brow, “Just catching my breath.”_

_He raised an incredulous eyebrow before a strong arm slid beneath my shoulder, taking most of my weight. “Does Mor know you're out of bed?” His voice hinting that he already knew the answer._

_I winced not completely out of the pain that was currently threatening to split my side open. Again. “She’s busy with her other patients. I… I couldn’t miss it.” His name was still too painful to voice, but Rhys knew who I was talking about._

_“It hasn’t started yet.” Those words were a balm to my heart._

_I wouldn’t be too late._

_Not this time._

_We made slow progress through the levels of the fortress, the general half carrying me at times. When we finally emerged from its stony embrace, the sun was making its descent for the day, staining the sky with soft pinks and oranges that was giving was to lilac._

_Soldiers shuffled through the main gate, all headed towards the final goodbye of their comrades. A few greeted the general with nods or murmured words, but most were quiet. If they were confused as to why he was supporting an injured woman that looked like a soldier they knew, they hid it well. Or perhaps I was too exhausted to notice._

_Gently nudging our way to the front, Rhys came to a stop in front of the long, low pyre to the far right._

_“He’s here,” Rhys’s whisper brushed my ear. All I managed was a nod of thanks, churning emotions already had a vice-like grip on my throat._

_Each minute that walked by brought the scarred plain into deeper and deeper shadow. When the sun finally slipped behind the horizon, torches were brought out, their flame flickering in the gentle winds._

_“Cauldron save you. Mother hold you. Pass through the gates, and smell that immortal land of milk and honey. Fear no evil. Feel no pain. Go, and enter eternity.” The prayer of the dead rose and swelled around us as soldiers murmured, whispered, cried, said farewell to their brothers in arms._

_Fire not so different from the ones that razed our enemy licked its way through wood and flesh, smoke and ash rose into the twilight sky._

_“Fear no evil. Feel no pain,” my final words to the friend I made, to the brother who trained beside me, to the boy who was barely a man but had not hesitated to make the ultimate sacrifice for his family and country._

Suddenly, after what seemed like years, the first house of our town edged into view. Its patchwork wooden roof greeted me like an old friend. Not changed at all but seen with new eyes.

Uncertainty tugged low in my gut. My house would be next, just out of sight beyond the curve in the road. I forced my lungs to fill with crisp autumn air and my feet to continue on their path.

Heartbeats counted down the distance. My eyes flickered everywhere and nowhere until they came to rest on what was once my front door. What might never be my home again.

I had left them.

That was the truth, plain and simple.

I had stolen away in the night with my father’s armor and conscription notice, not even leaving a note to say goodbye.

Months had passed with no word from me. Perhaps they thought me dead. Perhaps they wished I was dead for leaving them with nothing to remember me by but their memories.

A hand that was mine yet detached from my mind lifted to knock.

The door whooshed open, causing strands of hair to be pulled inward with the sudden movement.

_Elain._

_Nesta._

_Father._

Their mouths slightly agape, shock written across their features. My heart and stomach competed in a freefall to the center of the earth as I stood frozen in time.

“Feyre,” their voices broke together. It was a sigh of relief. A prayer being answered. All their frustration and worry and joy being let out and mixed into one word.

At once we all surged forwards, a tangle of limbs and tears. Each of them pulled me closer, closer, closer until there was no beginning nor end to the mass we had become. Shudders wracked through us all, no telling who had originated the sob.

There had been no hope on their side that they would see me again. No hope on mine that I would see the end of this war.

Soon, the pressure of crushing love and knee-wobbling relief brought us to the ground that caught us ungracefully.

Sobs turned to laughter. Laughter turned to half-hearted scolding that was ruined by smiles and tears. Scolding turned to silence as we all marveled at the luck that had brought us together again.

“The war,” I managed to get out, “It’s over. We won. We’re safe.”

My father meets my eyes with a watery smile, “We know, they came with news a week ago.” His voice fails him then, causing him to look down.

It was Nesta who whispered, “When the other soldiers started coming home and you didn’t, we feared the worst.”

“They brought with them the list of the dead and when we didn’t see your name on it…” Elain swallowed hard, fighting to make it through the sentence. “When we didn’t see your name on it, we—I— hoped that you were still alive.”

“I thought they had killed you the moment you arrived at camp and officials would arrive any day to executed us for the disgrace of sending a woman to war,” Nesta’s voice was still soft but edged with a harsh bitterness at the risk I had taken not only for myself, but for all of them.

“I’m sorry,” didn’t even begin to cover what I had done but it was a start. “I was injured at the final battle. I left as soon as I could.” The wound had caused much blood loss but was quick to heal as soon as Mor kept me confined to bed.

_And a certain general determined to nurse me back to health._

Worry deepened the lines of their faces at the mention of me being injured. “I’m fine now, I promise. The army had skilled healers.” I didn’t mention how close death was to me; they had already been through too much.

My reassurance smoothed their expressions back to those of awe at my return. It was Nesta who picked herself off the ground first and dusted herself off. “We have stew on the fire.”

I had a feeling that I would not see tears again in her blue-gray eyes for a long time. They had never been shed for our mother, but she had released them for me. For her sister that fought a war to ensure their safety and had returned home to them.

I eased onto my feet, mindful of my healing scar while Elain helped our father up.

The step over the threshold of our home felt like shedding a wet cloak on a winter day. A weight gone from my shoulders and familiar heat seeped into my bones.

It was good to be home.

 _Home_ , if only for a little while.

A city full of light and art and laughter and new possibilities waited at the end of the road that once carried me off to certain death.

I had left the fortress with a promise tucked close to my heart. It might be a few weeks before I fulfill it, but it was there, waiting for me.

 _He_ was waiting for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a fluffy epilogue to go!


End file.
